The Gravedigger: March of the Fallen
by Kamagua
Summary: Old version of the Gravedigger 2. Just here so that people can read it before the other is complete.
1. Chapter 1: Cold's Call

_**This is in fact a sequel to the first tale, "The Gravedigger: Dawn of Hope."**_

_*****DISCLAIMER. I try to make my stories stand alone, but you may be lost here and there if you do read this before the first part.*****_

_**If you have not yet read that story then you may be a wee bit lost when reading this -- repetitive but needed. Feel free to continue if you want, but I do suggest reading the other story first. Your choice, of course. **_

_**Anyway, come, sit, stay, drink coffee, cry, smile, laugh, and most importantly...**_

_**Enjoy!  
**_

* * *

Looming overhead the gray clouds blotted with blotches of black make their appearance known. Wondrous mountain peaks covered in piles of puffy white reach towards the angry sky. Brown, muddy ground runs down the sloping walls. A small town waits in the safety of the peak's comforting base.

Paths of gray run in various directions from the center of town and into the fields of snow. Ominous buildings lean awkwardly into the sky, while pockets of orange and red run from their tops. Pillars of smoke billow into the sky, matching the height of the mountains.

Broken walls stretch into the lonely air, while black scorch marks scatter the terrain.

Bodies litter the entrances and all the roads of the small town. All signs of the marvelous splendors of nature vanish. As I stand here, watching the smoldering ruins of the wasted town, a sickening feeling sweeps over me.

I am alone.

Where is everyone?

We came in together. All I can see are corpses of ones far gone. Where is everyone?! When did the attack come? Why was I not woken for this?

Silence.

All is silent but the scrapping of my boots against the firm snow. Flames lick the sky and dance with fate's design. Pebbles rub into the bottom of my shoes. Smoke hinders my vision.

I make to open my mouth, but nothing comes out. Tired arms rise and battle the gathering smoke. Feet march forward aimlessly. Eyes barely able to see more than a few yards in any direction.

Voices?!

Nathanos!

Carlin!

Mark!

Wriggler?

Drums pound mercilessly at the cages of confining pressure. Blood rows angrily down the paths of tightened fury. Lungs heave air in and throw air out at a frightening pace. Anxiety grips my being.

Suddenly I stumble forward. Feet fight to grip the ground below. Arms extend to give futile aid. Eyes direct down to follow both. Fortunately the able soles find balance once again.

Coming upright, I can now see an open pocket before me. It is there I see something. Standing in the middle of this clear space is a black figure. Heavy, metallic armor clasps to almost every inch of the being. Its face is hidden behind a sinister helmet. A black cape drags to the ground, where a familiar blade's tip rests.

Runes run the sides of the sword and move to the sick skull at the handle. Blue smoke pukes from the tiny eyes of the crafted ram's head. It's tendrils dance back down the blade. Blue trails run to the ground and dance over a lone figure in the snow.

Its bony body lies twisted at the feet of the standing figure. A tattered, green hood lies broken and dirty upon the snow. In his hand…a cracked bow.

Nathanos…

Muscles churn acid within me. Tears build at the dams of my eyes. It cannot be. It cannot be!

I make to scream, but nothing comes out. I make to cry, but nothing flows.

The standing figure moves.

I make to shout, but silence caresses my body.

It looks in my direction.

I make to yell, but only rage builds within.

His weapon rises.

I make to raise my shovel, and it moves so willingly.

A deep bellow crushes all silence and brings the nightmare of its existence to me, "Light will not save you here, Hope." White hair bounces across the faceplate of the figure as he speaks, "These are my lands. All trespassers will find themselves soon welcome."

Feet crack the soil below me. No longer do I control myself. Arms raise my weapon higher. Wind whips the sides of my face. Smoke parts in my path. I will not stand here silent! I will end you!

The malformed blade lifts to the figure's front. Smoke pours from all sides of the sinister creature. His voice booms again, "Rage consume you."

My trusty shovel lifts above my head as I close in. His blade shakes in his palms. Everything grows hazy as I near him. All reality blurs. Even my target ahead looses shape. But my anger burns bright!

I stop moving. Something is holding me back! Where is it?! Let go of me. He must be punished!

Black fuses with white. Red builds into orange. All the colors fade into one; darkness consumes all. My eyes cannot make out the figure anymore. What is going on? Where is he?!

Then, as if on cue, his voice returns, "You are mine, Hope Blackwood." He pauses as all turns to black, "Your master calls. Obey my call. Obey the cry…"

I stand now in a sea of black. My body is gone. All has vanished into nothingness. All is gone, but my anger. All is gone…but the voice…

"Obey the order…of the Lich King."

Cold creeps across all inches of my body.

Heavy eyelids break. Light creeps in and overwhelms the tender orbs below. Slowly the covers reel back completely. I twist my head side to side. First I see Carlin resting to my right side with Mark a few feet from him.

Instantly I fling my head in the other direction. Relief cushions the horrible churning within me. Bones rest against the wooden railing. A green, tattered, but not dirty, hood rests upon a turned head. Nathanos rests comfortably, but appears to be looking away.

I gaze back forward and sigh heavily. Ahead of me is a large zeppelin. Beyond it is another ship, and further on are heavy, gray clouds. All of it reminds of me that horrible sight.

Was that real? _You were having a terrible dream. He was having a bad dream. _

Suddenly Nathanos' voice booms loudly, "Nightmare again, eh, Worm?" He speaks without looking at me. I sigh, but do not reply. Instead, I flinch in my spot and fidget awkwardly.

Cold palms rush the front of my face. A deep chill erupts throughout my body. I twist in my spot, but that does nothing but stir the cold air. It is so unbelievably cold. _You need a blanket. He knows it. _I am not sure what I need, but I need to move. My body aches, and I need to stand. No matter how cold it is. _You are crazy! He is nuts!_

Jerking up, my knees lock briefly before I am able to brace the railings. Wobbling limbs hold me firmly. Soon, I am able to pull myself to my feet. Frosty bursts wash over me, but I do not care.

Slowly, I lift upwards. Bones snap and pop horrifically. Why is this so hard? Come on! You are not that old, Hope! _You are slower than Carlin! He is Carlin's grandpa!_ Finally, after what feels like a good hour, I fumble with my footing and come upright.

I dust the ice sickles from my chest. Packed pockets of show fall to the deck, shattering on contact. From the corner of my eyes is the undead man.

He rocks before calling to me, "Why in the world are you standing, twit?" Again he speaks without looking at me.

I shake myself a bit to let an oddly warming sensation flow through me. After a second, I glance down to him and reply, "Stiff limbs. You know, living pains and all."

Now he glares at me and blurts, "At least my dead bones know the stupidity of what you are doing."

Muscles within the edges of my mouth creek, but do not work; a sudden change in scenery diverts my attention. A thick gray cloud passes only feet from the side of the ship. I twist and watch a heavy fog roll over the front of the bow.

Moving forward, I creep across the front of the deck. Each second my vision shrinks. Each second if fades into a gray haze. Each second it all fades into one color until finally it simply caresses only the sides of the ship.

I twist to my side, and I can still see a bit in each direction. The other zeppelins nearest to us are still partially visible, but this fog is definitely heavy and sudden. It blocks almost all sight…like in my dream. _You mean nightmare. He means doom!_

Once again my heart races wildly. Veins surge heat and adrenaline through all passages. Calm down, Hope. This is nothing. It has nothing to do with that dream. Nope, loss of vision has no connection at all.

Sight shrinks, leaving me with nothing but the heavy wall of air. Leaving me with nothing but that sick, twisted voice. It is almost as if I can hear it calling again…

"Da mist, mon."

A sudden, startling, raspy voice forces me to stumble forward. I reach my arm out and grip a rope at the edge of the ship. That was close. _You have no idea. He…has a general idea._

Once I am balanced I move a bit. Instantly, I am startled by a figure to my left. A thick, heavy suit rests over his shoulders and run down his entire body. A heavy scarf rests around his neck. Wooden spikes jut from the circular object in his hand.

Muscles tighten and flinch. I jerk upright as my body twitches. _You idiot, calm down. He needs to relax…that is the captain. _It is then I notice the small, green ears protruding from the back of his large, brown helmet. Only Skippy…

"Da mist is here now, mon." Again the deep, crackling voice erupts from behind.

I spin. A mound of blankets twitches. Extending from the cloth mess is a large, green nose and two equally as large ears. From here I cannot make out his eyes, but from his nose I can tell he is staring over Nathanos' railing.

Piles of cloth jiggle as he repositions himself. Limbs lift patches up and down, while a chest heaves heavily. Seconds pass before he is comfortable again. Nose and ears shift towards me.

There is a long silence as he looks upon. Eyes burn into my soul. Sightless vision tells me untold tales. He fidgets again. Suddenly, a more muffled voice calls to me, "Mist of evil, mon."

I turn away from him and look forward. I fidget before I clear my throat. Then, unwillingly, I find myself speaking, "The Mist? Seems more like a blanket of clouds to me…"

Again I hear the troll from behind, "Mon, in da colds of da north, there be enemy'a'plenty." He pauses briefly, "De undead are not da only foul beasts here…"

A silence sweeps the deck. I cold rushes across my once numb body. Harsh winds bite feverishly at my flesh. Clothing does nothing to stop the bitter chomping of the chill. One arm pulls close to my body. Wrapping it tight, I prepare a warmer position.

The troll continues, "Dere be worst things upon dese shores den scourge, mon."

I do not move. I do not need to. I do not want to. _You do not dare to. He knows better._

I simply stare straight ahead. Pockets of black and gray mingle. Pulses of white climb into the spiraling mess and entangle perfectly. All thoughts vanish as I stare into the nothingness. All worries seem to disappear. All seems so calm…

"Consider yourself warned, Worm!" Nathanos' loud cry shatters my thought, "You are in Northrend."

Regretfully I turn and watch him sitting on the deck. He looks forward and partially at me as he rests there.

After a second chuckles, "Where the cold is the sweetest pleasure you will find."

I stare oddly at him and look into his eyes. He glares awkwardly back. Overwhelmingly his sight breaks me, and I look up at the purple balloon overhead. Closing my eyes I let the wind wrap around me. Images of the Lich King fill my mind.

Images of him standing over the broken body fill my mind. Pockets of flames flick the edges of my mind. Air squeezes my lungs. Breathing becomes harder. Blue clouds twist across all my sight. Tentacles of frosty wind crawl for me.

They cling to my body. They burn against my flesh. His voice booms for me. It booms unnaturally loud and unnaturally familiar.

"Obey…"

So cold. So very cold. _You are really crazy. He needs to sit down!_

I should. I know I should. My body could be warm again. No point in worrying about it now. _You must! He must obey us!_

In time, but for now…I shall enjoy this…sweetest pleasure.

While I can…


	2. Chapter 2: Broken Mist

Sweetest pleasure?

My chest is numb, my face is almost frozen solid, and my limbs are locked firmly in place. Ok, maybe this was not the smartest of ideas. _You think? He knows it was dumb._ Yeah, dumb would be putting it mildly.

Frost dances delicately across the senseless nerves. Chill claws at the unfeeling flesh. Ice gathers in spiky design across my entire body. Slick blocks of ice stick to the unmoving strands of tightened fabric to my side.

So…cold…

_You are really stuck now. He should have not dozed off again! _Of course I should not have fallen asleep! _You must fix this. He must focus._ How in the world do I fix this? My body is going into some icy shock. _You must relax. He must focus!_

Ok, Hope. Focus. Stare into the dangling ice sickle inches from your face. Let its crystalline design correct your idiotic actions. Let the simple design draw you in. Let it…

You must remember the broken city. He must recall the slime sewers. You must extract memories of the long corridor. He will retrieve the past. You will bring it to the present. He must…

Focus, Hope, focus. Remember the broken city. Yes, the ruined city of the Forsaken. Slime cruises through slender passes with ease. Gray stone reflects dull pockets of light. Bone and flesh hand loosely to undead warriors. Red eyes radiate a call for me…

Sylvanas…

_You must remember the chamber. He must recall the anguish!_

Her darkened, yet soft flesh calls to me. Glasswork curves glare a glinting sparkle of utter beauty. Angry muscles tell me a false story. Cold skin grows warm as my hands caress it. All while gorgeous, perfect orbs scream at me. All while perfect, marvelous rubies call me…

Red eyes…

Skin crawls. Flesh flinches. Focus hardens. Arrays of bumps boil on the surface of my body. Thickened patches grow and gather across my skin. Bone crunches and bends rapidly and unwillingly. Spikes scatter across every inch.

Rubies…

In a flash my body breaks free. Brown stains flush the full of my form. Claws are crafted from my hands. All of my flesh molds into armor while bones bend into weapons on my hands and feet. Shoulder blades bulge and buckle, giving birth to two lanky spiny arms.

Claws click from overhead as the extra limbs come to life. Black spines run down the sides of the additions, across my chest and through my clothing. Fine hair wafts in the air, while the mesh upon my head vanishes into armor. Folds of plated flesh crawl down the sides of my head.

Skull squeaks and screeches, as the forehead breaks outward. A jagged spike comes into my ever-coning sight. My nose flattens and fades into my face as the jutting horn comes into its final position. At last my lips curl to the sides and mold into two, clicking fangs.

I sweep my now numb body one last time. Heavy, brown armor of an exoskeleton covers every inch. Black pockets connect the bony joints of my body. Spikes decorate the outer surface. Delicate strands of strong hair mix with the spines.

Clicking fangs in front of my face sound some unknown code. Overhead the extra claws snap wildly at the frosty air. The same chilling cold that locked me here. The same numbing ice that once held me…

Now is nothing. _You said it. He feels no cold now._

Heavy feet hit the wooden deck hard. I lock in my position. Maybe I should have been a little quieter. Its ok, Hope, just relax. Gripping the rope hard, I let my spines rip into it, and I lower my second leg. Just be…

CLANK

Blast…

Instantly the irritating undead calls, "Worm, that is cheating!" He pauses, "If you wanted to freeze, then freeze with dignity."

Twisting in my spot, I glare back at the fool and yell a deep, vibrating call, "Morris, shut it! Do you want to wake everyone?!"

Opps…

The blankets to the side shift. Green nostrils direct towards me before flinching violently. The troll raises its hands through the heavy coverings and breaks a hole in his mask.

After a moment his eyes are visible. They widen as he stares at me. Dark pupils peer side to side. Each one scans the person in front of him. Oddly he throws the hood back in his face and he chuckles.

He gets comfortable again and mumbles loudly, "Mon, dat be a freaky way of gett'n warm. Dat also be a horrifying form, mon. Horrifying."

Carlin chuckles from the other side of the deck, "Hope, my boy, there are no Scourge here. No need for the terrible visage."

Nathanos responds, "Terrible? For Worm, being a bug is a step up."

The two of them laugh, before a high-pitched screech blares from behind. My body turns, and I see the little captain hiding awkwardly behind the large wheel. He gives the instrument a jerk and squeals again.

He peers over the wooden tool and screams, "First mate! Get the extra giant can of bug spray! This infestation is a whopper!"

Now that is the reaction I was expecting….

CARASH

Unfortunately the horrifying reaction came from the individual steering the ship. The same individual that let the front end of the ship collide with the zeppelin to the left. The same individual that brings the whole ship to a violent shake.

Thankfully, my feet dig into the wooden deck, but the rest are not so lucky.

Carlin, Nathanos, and Mark slam hard against the side railing, while the pile of warm troll blankets slides across the wooden platform. Soldiers slip back and forth, hitting hard objects randomly.

The captain wriggles the steering wheel violently and throws it in attempts to dislodge the ship. After a second it is free, but someone is not quite finished with his little accident.

A higher pitched yell bellows for the nearby Zeppelin, "Captain Skippy, If you can call yourself Captain, what are you doing?!"

From the hazy sight I make out a tiny, green figure behind the other ship's wheel. It would appear that this captain is built slightly differently. If I knew any better, it was a woman…goblin. _You know better? He obviously knows his sexes._

Again she yells, "What do you have to say for yourself, you idiot?"

Skippy pulls himself back into proper position before turning around. He throws a strange gesture with his hand before shaking his head and screaming, "I meant to do that! It was…um… a test!"

There is a pause before she screeches, "What?! You are a lunatic! A loony tool!"

Without hesitation, or thinking, Skippy retorts, "Loony like gnome! An attractive gnome!"

The other captain makes to speak, but before she does, a strange sound echoes across the sky. I am not sure what it is, but I am certain I heard it. Right? _You heard something. He is actually just crazy. You are not, he is a liar! He…_

"You are by far the worst pilot, ever!" She throws her insult out.

The same sounds blurts again. I see Skippy shout something, but I am already lost in my mind. What is that? Its lingering echo means it is loud, deep, and continuous. But what in the world is it? _You need to hear it again. He needs…_

There it is!

It is louder now. My eyes lock into nothing, but stare ahead. A second passes, and I can hear that same sound and see heavy fog. Another second, I make out more of the ship, but the focus of my thought diminishes. A third moment, and now I can see the bulk of the woman's ship…but I lost the sound.

Another passes.

The fog lessens.

Another moment.

Louder than ever, the sound returns. And I can now see another ship.

My thoughts are interrupted by Skippy, "Come over and drive then, you gnome loving…"

Before the goblin can finish, Nathanos blurts, "You fools, will you shut up?!"

In a flash he appears in my sight and climbs to front of the ship. His face contorts and he squints. Bone fingers wrap around the rope near him. Shoulders of decaying matter shift forward. Still perfect eyes and keen ears detect something.

A deep, bellowing burst echoes from nearby.

Before I can move, Nathanos shouts, "Forsaken horns!" I see him reach back for a bow, "That is an alarm!"

Light washes over my side. Spinning quickly, I let my eyes focus on the bright gray clouds overhead. It would seem that the mist has broken. Once again, we can see the skies. We can also now see a large, green terrain ahead. However, the sight below is what is important.

Black spikes fly in the sky. Weak explosions ripple from firmly positioned cannons. Tiny, gray, black and white figures scatter across the walls of a large outpost. Towers jut into the sky, leading to ramps for aerial docking. Twisted metal runs across tall walls while electric sparks run from the green structures.

On the outskirts of the post I see small figures advance across the green and gray coast. They fire wildly into the air as they march towards an insanely tall cliff wall that runs high into the sky.

The missiles fly in all directions, while bursts of flame return in massive volleys. My vision diverts upwards, and I find the source of the fiery barrages. Winged beasts beat mighty limbs of firm skin. Huge, bulky bodies turn, dive, and jerk in circular patterns. Long, heavy legs shift side to side awkwardly.

A massive tail whips the air and steers the dragon-like creature swiftly through the skies. Black scales run down the navigating extension protruding from the back, and run up the back like a stone-pathway.

The massive black scales cover the top of red beast, and are interrupted only by a huge figure on its back. From here the rider bares the form of a normal human, but something seems out of place. _You know that is one big rider. He thinks he is gigantic! _Yes, the giant beast is ridden by a figure that matches the creature's size.

My focus is diverted as Nathanos shouts, "Giant men and dragons? What kind of sick joke is this?"

Instantly Skippy throws his head to the side and replies, "Bony, those are Vrykul warriors and Proto-drakes." He points forward, "Those nasty nasties have been assaulting my ship for months!"

Nathanos shakes his head. Grunts follow and he raises the bow to his side. A heavy pocket of air drags sickeningly in his lungs then escapes as he shouts, "Please, their fangs will dull and their rider's weep when they realize I have arrived!"

TWANG, TWANG, TWANG

Wooden slivers rapidly emerge in my vision. In seconds they diminish to blackened blurs as they rain further out. A lone rider jerks violently, tips, and falls from his large stead.

Again Nathanos shouts, "Would seem that they have yet to receive their revelation!"

TWANG, TWANG

They emerge, blur, fade, and vanish into a jerking figure. Again the monster takes to the air as the mounted figure makes for the ground.

Nathanos laughs from my side, "Fools! The mighty still bows to me." He chuckles some more and leans backwards.

Drakes circle around the advancing troops continuing to vomit volleys of death for our soldiers. My vision takes in most of the battle from this position. Oddly, none of the riders noticed us. None of them have noticed the grand Nathanos. None…

A sinister screech rips my eardrums. Stumbling back, the dark cry is insanely close. I am able to absorb the vast bulk of the sound, but much permeates through. Nathanos flinches, as does the rest of the crew.

Each soldier, each warrior, each companion wobbles across the deck as the belching blast throws them into a frenzy of confusion. I do not know where this is coming from. Coned vision sees nothing. It stretches to see both ships to the sides, the deck, and the balloon above. Yet nothing. _You see not a thing. He sees air and the battle below._

Nothing above.

Nothing in the field.

Nothing to the right side.

Nothing to the left.

Nothing…

Wings burst from the front of the ship. Air rushes across the deck. Unstable bodies slide across the weak wood. Arms raise to block back the blast. A lone bow rises to defend an undead's broken body.

Appearing from the bow of the ship is a massive, flat head. Bony, black scales cover the face and run across the neck as it emerges. A dark blue figure comes into sight. Death seems to have consumed the color from its flesh. Sinister leather clings to the giant man. Ice hangs from the fingertips of an outreached arm.

These same said fingers grab the one object no man dares to. These same said fingers wrap around the weapon of a thousand deaths. These same said finger pull the wooden item that death itself fears.

It takes from Nathanos…his bow.

Dragging upwards, the baffled Morris looses grip of his weapon instantly. He stumbles as only the beat of heavy wings booms in perfect rhythm. The back of the drake sweeps past. As it does, a loud, booming chuckle bursts from the lungs of the thief.

Scales slip past one at a time. They grow smaller and tighter as the beast moves past. It is as if time itself slows for this moment. Each scale moves past quickly. Each scale shrinks. Each scale moves tighter to the next.

Each scale moves. And as they do, the feet of Nathanos drum a dance of death. He extends his leg and slams into the railing. An extension of hate grips the frightened rope. All the fury of rage releases into the springs of revenge.

The undead fool leaps from the side of the ship. His arms wrap to the last portion of the drake's scales as it whips wildly. All three figures move into the distance, but as they move, I hear the call of one pissed man, "Pray death finds you before I do, rider!"

A drake of determination whips a being of decay, and utter focus. One drake tries to remove the trespasser, while the undead hangs on with all will power. One will win…

BURRSH

Flames dance from above. A drake moves quickly from the front and to the side of the ship. It's wrath burning part of the deck, but missing all targets. I lock with the moving beast. It is nowhere as fast as the first, so I am able hone to it perfectly. _You know what must be done. He knows exactly._

Air draws into my mouth, and out the sides of some strange vents. I glare at the beast. Wings come into perfect alignment at the side of the zeppelin. Now would be the moment. _You must! He will do it!_

Without any more hesitation, my muscular limbs extend forward. Claws dig into wood. Railings buckle to the might of my body. Outstretched bones of pure armor and unyielding power grab for their target.

My hands sink into the hard flesh. I pull to the shoulder of the beast. Its head snaps for my violently, but I am not close enough. Bony spikes slam into the red drake. Feet dangle in the air.

It thrashes and whips wildly, but I hold firmly.

Time to show these giants there are enemies worse then the scourge on these shores. Time to show these monsters Nathanos is not the only thing to fear. Time to show them…Hope Blackwood has arrived.


	3. Chapter 3: Drake Smash

Rumbling roars rip the fabric of my sanity. Small arms of a large drake whip futilely at thick armor that is my flesh. Wind whirls and swirls in frenzies as its head whips side to side. Flames puke from the corners of an angry mouth. All are strikes of a monster built for destruction. All are blows struck in attempts for death.

All ignorant of what power awaits them.

Enraged, uncontrollable limbs built of solid bone jut from my shoulders and crash against mighty scales. Properly thrust claws sink into soft skin. Coned vision draws in all and knows where to strike next.

And so I shall.

I pull myself up the neck with ease. Claws cling to thick leathery flesh. The head whips suddenly, but I do not lose grip. Another reach, further up I travel. Flames flicker for me. Drake muscles tense to throw me off. But I will not let go.

Further up I climb. A roar rumbles. My eyes sweep across the side of the skull. In front of my face is a massive, black pearl. Vision is lost in the pure, sinking darkness. Light reflects from the core of the orb. I almost feel lost in the beast's eye. Lost in the utter determination and rage of the beast. Almost…

Reaching up I let my hand sink around the mighty beast's eyes. A shrill sound screeches through the air. Instantly I extend my other arm up and let it land. Using the strength of all four limbs I throw myself upwards. Air rushes past as I fly into the air. The beast falls behind me, leaving only the rider left in my floating path.

Unfortunate for him. _You better believe it! He will make this fool suffer!_

Metal vibrates as an arching axe flies in my direction. Muscular arms push all fury into the blade. I throw my left arm directly into the head of the axe. Instantly the blade slows. Above an uncontrollable spine shoots down, bites at the wood and snaps it with it ease. The bony claws pull the blade over my head while my right arm collides with the neck of the rider.

Heavy feet slam into the drake, and I find myself at eye level with the rider. Anger courses through all his pores. Battle hardened pupil's play with my frightening figure. Fear grips him as strongly as I do. _You will show him no mercy! He will make you aware of our might!_

Just barely he is able to emit something from his harsh lungs. Words of some unknown language bounce across my unhearing ears. I draw his face to mine. Angry fangs click at the edges of his mouth, and I can almost taste his fright.

Lifting upward, I draw him from the mount. Fangs click again as I speak to the fool,

"You bring war to my people, you attack my friends," I pause briefly to peer into him, "And your brethren stole Nathanos' bow?"

He lifts higher and my muscles tighten before I speak, "What a terrible way to welcome us."

With a flick of my wrist and a tug of my arm I drag the fool from my front. He whips past my side, flies over the head of the beast, and is let loose. His body flails and whips as he falls far from his mount.

I glare back to him, and watch him fall, flip mid-air, and pass out of sight under the dragon's head. Instantly my unruly limb lifts the almost weightless blade. It hangs over my head for a brief second before whipping downward. Faster it moves. Faster, stopping only to sink deeply in the beast's skull.

Gravity begins to pull heavily on my body. The dragon goes limp and I reposition myself. Looking down the tilting corpse's body, I shift and let my feet pull me forward. Whipping fast I use the stepping stone scales to fly forward. As the tail nears I land my feet heavily, and with all my might, I leap into the air.

As I move the dragon fades from sight leaving only the battle below. Figures shift in all directions. Warriors march on shores and fight on cliffs. Zeppelins fire at mounted beasts, while riders of giant fury fire arrows upon stationary targets.

I fly higher for only a second longer before gravity once again takes control. Falling fast, I look around for a target. Drakes fly back and forth. Dozens of destinations. Faster. Hundreds of feet pass me. They are moving too quickly. Faster.

The figures on the ground grow larger and larger. Coned vision follows all possible beings to grab. _You better pick one fast. He will!_

Closer to the ground I travel. The cliff draws to the top of my vision and fades into yellow walls, yet I still do not lock. _You better hurry! He will._

Closer still. No target.

Figures on the ground grow larger. I can almost make out all their forms from here. Closer. I see a figure come into the left side of sight. Closer, the drake moves under me. Closer, the ground is near, and so is the target. Closer…._You need to grab this! He will?!_

Closer, I can see individual faces. I can feel the blades and weapons of the Forsaken troops. I can almost taste the banners of the marching troops. I can see my target in my sights.

Arms extend. Red scales draw underneath me. Claws reach for the beast. Adrenaline pumps through all veins. Drums rattle beneath an unfeeling plate of bone and armor. I cannot miss. _You will not. He better not!_

Bony fingertips feel nothing but air. Muscles tighten for impact. All limbs contract for contact. All of my body prepares!

_CACLACK_

Bones scrape against equally as tough substances. Legs drag my body down. I feel my arms lock firmly in place. Instantly I whip forward. Dangling legs whip just over the tops of soldier's heads and clink against poles and banners as they move.

In a flash I fly under the beast's belly, and a strange jerk at my arm draws my sight up. It's head twists violently and drags the body of the beast. The entire monster spins with the cracking head and all twists behind me as I arch to the side. I am the handle and the blade to this organic, one-way pendulum.

A second later my arms are pointing towards the ground, the beast is flipped to it's back. I ready my legs. Energy flows through me and guides me properly. Fingers let go of the broken Drake's head and let all power throw my legs upward.

Wind shoots across my almost senseless back, and I manage to pull myself upright after a brief hesitation. Again adrenaline pumps through me. All veins harden and ready for a surge of fueled blood. Eyes lock with the figure.

A drake flies directly at me with its mouth filling with sparkling flame and fury. Black eyes blare hate. Arrows bounce harmlessly from my flesh, but the rage of the rider is fully felt. _You better act quickly. He is going to be cooked!_

My legs draw into my body. The drake draws closer to me. It's flame fires brighter and gathers energy every second. Legs lock firmly and ready themselves. A ball of molten fury builds. _You better do something. He…fire…pain!_

Shooting my legs outwards I feel a dense matter collide with them. The top of the monster's head jerks downwards as my feet drag it. Instantly the head comes to a stop, and so do my legs. My torso pulls forward, and I position myself in towards my legs.

Pulsing energy ripples through the limbs and push. Once again I am in the air, leaving behind a baffled and confused beast. Sadly, I am unable to strike the rider as I pass. _You wanted to maim him. He wanted to destroy!_

Ahead I see the horizon of upper cliff and take in all the sight. Hundreds of Forsaken feverishly fight. Thousands of giants lumber towards them and clash against the outnumbered heroes. The same heroes that brace their backs against the cliff walls, and a large stone like structure.

A giant bronze colored dragon-head lifts and drags chains on a pulley that connects to massive black lift. Every few seconds the platform lowers and seconds later raises back to the cliff, filled with Forsaken from below. A dragon-shaped elevator? Strange…

This bronze dragon structure is directly ahead of me, and from my aerial position, I am guessing it is my landing location. I lock my limbs and brace myself for another uncomfortable landing.

My body draws down heavier and I begin to fall. Ground draws closer and so does the open mouthed bronze dragon. Muscles lock, body positions, and I realize I am going to land short. I am not going to make the top of the dragon's head. I am not going to hit perfectly…

Blast…

I make to reposition myself, but it is too late. _CARASH. _Pain surges through my chest and arms. Thankfully, most of the bulky armor absorbed the poor quality position. Gripping the side of the skull, I hang for a second and gather my thoughts. _You better gather your dignity too. He better just get up._

Quickly I pull upwards and throw myself over the side. My feet clank against the top of the structure and I stand for a moment. Ahead of me I can see the fight. And now I take it in properly.

Forsaken troops gather behind small platforms while Towering Vry…Vrie…giant men clash against the significantly smaller fighters. Feet clamber across the wooden platform below and a dozen troops gather to position themselves.

Suddenly, a giant, pale three-armed abomination lurches from his fight and yells to the new warriors, "You tinys, move to walls! Kill badys, stab them!" He glances up to me and pauses briefly, "You, buggy, get purple balloons! Get crazy green man!"

He turns around, throws his arms at the foes, and ignores us all completely. Again I am bit confused; has everyone seen a giant bug before? _You are on the continent of the Nerubian Spiders. He is there._

I sigh and turn to the sky. There I see the average drakes circling the descending flying ships. The crew fires wildly at the winding and winded beasts. The ships move towards the safe platforms to avoid the persistent riders. All of them, but one.

A massive, rather clumsy Zeppelin glides towards my position. Good'ol Skippy. I raise my arms and throw them wildly in the air. Clicking claws attempt to aid in the spectacle. At first I do not think he sees us. He is still too high. Suddenly his course changes.

Changes directly towards me.

Quickly the ship builds in size and nears my position. I continue waving limbs until a strange sinking feeling fills my gut. Nearer it draws and larger the ship grows. The churning within me grows. Only a dozen yards away…

Blast you, Skippy!

Spinning quickly, I claw forward and hastily leap. My arms guide me towards the ground and I roll on contact. Feet sink into the muddy ground and I come back into an upright position again.

Glancing upward, I watch as a wooden behemoth floats feet overhead. Bits of broken stone sprinkle across the gritty ground as the end propellers shoot by. The bulk of the Zeppelin zooms over the Forsaken forces and it lowers to the ground. Lower and lower it goes. Until…

_CARASH_

The entire mess shakes and quakes. Blotches of black dirt fly into the air. Giant goliaths jump, flee and collapse to the crashing ship. A second passes and finally the ship comes to a slow stop.

A high-pitched squeal fills the air, "Leap, jump, skip, I do not care! Just get off my ship, you blood thirsty gorillas!"

Instantly soldiers appear at the edges of the ship. Nimble warriors leap onto the hard soil. Thrashing fresh blades drive through the confused giants. Mark emerges, lands, and he throws his might into his target. Finally, Carlin crawls over the edge, places his belly against the wood, and slowly descends.

He grips ropes and pulls himself from the side at a crawling pace. Something stirs from the side of my vision. Whipping my head I take in multiple incoming attackers. The fresh fighters thrash and slash at the opponents. Giants fall, but struggle fiercely. They begin throwing massive axes at our warriors, crushing and slicing troops as they land.

One takes aim at the ship. His eyes lock firmly on the aging old warrior. Muscular arms lift a mighty, perfectly balanced blade in his hands. A sinister smirk sweeps his face.

I reach back for my weapons. I pat my back, but I feel nothing. Mindless limbs claw at massive lumps on my back. Where are my weapons?! No, I must have dropped them on the ship! _You did not. He still has them._

Wait, where? Where are the weapons? I cannot feel them. _You are going to have to remove the armor. He is going to have to shed the strength. You must relax. He must focus. You must take the gun into your mind. He must recall the shovel._

Images of my rifle fill my mind. I do not have time to argue with the strange logic, but instead step forward. Sounds of cracking carapace and breaking bone fill my ears. The bone on my forehead folds inward while the cartilage constructed nostrils return.

Another step.

The coned vision fades, and matted, sweaty hair flops on my forehead. All my body grows lighter.

Another.

Tiny claws fade from my vision. Objects bounce from my shoulders and clank against my body as they fall.

A final step.

A cold breeze rushes over my firm flesh. Wind whips my sensitive skin. Frosty bites burn my body once again. I am back to normal! Without hesitation I reach back, feel the firm gun, and block out all horrifying thoughts of how I covered it in armor.

Pulling it to my front, I adjust in my arms and pull the sight to my eyes. Giant arms pull back the enormous metal weapon. Tiny limbs balance a small cannon. Mighty muscles draw in strength. Miniature fingers pull and pray for death's hand.

_TITHBURSH_

An explosion erupts in the air. A slug slices through the air. The arm of the aggressor continues forward. However all energy fades from the limb. The being wobbles in his spot while he his arm glides to his side. A second passes before falls forward. Falls forward as the old man falls to the dirt.

Well, at least the old man is finally off of the stupid ship. The same ship that somehow creeks, spins its propeller and moves forward. Dirt sprays in all directions. Warriors are covered in thick blocks of mud and grime.

Skippy, I swear.

He moves the ship forward rather slowly, and I catch glimpse of a giant leap onto to the side. The vessel lifts from the ground and slides forward, but the giant climbs upward. _You must stop him. He will do just that…_

_TITHBURSH_

_He needs to stop interrupting me!_

The giant grasps the side the ship before flinching and falling. Another makes to leap. He bounds forward. Long, thick legs guide him at alarming rates. Reload, Hope. I pull the bolt back, slide a round into the chamber, but as I raise the rifle something happens.

A random arrow collides into the man's side he stops in his tracks. I am not sure where that missile came from, but a sudden load roar draws my attention. My neck twists violently side to side, but I see nothing.

Again a loud roar. An oddly blue figure falls from the sky. It lands in the dirt with a heavy thud, and I instantly look up. A massive, red drake whips wildly in the air. A small figure grips firmly before raising a bow to its side.

The man fires a few directed rounds in the top of the beast's head, and the monster flails wildly. He clings as the beast jerks its direction and flies towards the ground. It screeches one last time before plummeting downwards. The figure hangs tight, with its old bow back in its hands.

Nathanos! You crazy fool!

My attention diverts back to the dragon and I watch as it sweeps inches away from Skippy's still slow ship. Nathanos bends down, and after a second of waiting he leaps onto the deck. The drake continues at an angle. I do not think the undead hit the target. It is still going rather fast. _You should watch it's path. He really should._

Eyes sweep back to the floating ship. Arrows rain from the deck now as the undead hero brings his fury upon his enemies. _You really need to look back. He needs to! _Creaking wood cries as the ship turns mid-air. _You idiot, look back! He needs to move!_

Seeing orbs shift a bit down. Muscles tighten and acid churns within. Drums beat behind a heaving barrier of bar shaped bones. Horror is replaced by a heavy fear. Careening directly towards me…is the broken drake.

Leg muscles move, but the bulky body is moving too quickly. All my energy diverts to my legs. All my strength shifts to leaping. All my power draws to escape. But it is not enough.

Heavy mud clings to my shoes. I am stuck. I am stuck! My mind directs downwards, and I reach for my shoes. Quickly I jerk at the wedged objects. Come on! I fidget with it, and my foot is almost free. Almost free! Foolishly, I glance up.

_CARASH_

Mud sprays towards me. I feel my foot dislodge and I leap. I take to the air, but a sudden pain surges through my side. A huge force collides with my chest. I jerk backwards. Sparks rattle my mind. Wind escapes all parts of my body. So lightheaded…

Looking down feebly, I take in the sight of a long, reddish object. I fly backwards and a sudden force downwards pulls me from the red object in my chest. It whips from me and curls out of sight. However, I cannot feel any force on my body. I cannot feel any solid surface. _You need to focus! He must focus now!_

I am falling.

My vision locks with the army from the shores. Instantly I whip my head forward and watch as the cliff draws from me. I kick my limbs, but I cannot feel anything. I cannot feel anything but a pull of gravity and wind washing my skin.

I am falling!

_You must focus! He must, NOW!_

Yes, yes, calm down, Hope. Remember the sewers. Remember the red eyes. Remember….the red tail! It whips from the corner of my vision and…

Another surge of pain, and everything spins. Everything swirling. Everything…so…light. _You…focus! He…will!_ All I can feel is pain. So much pain.

A red object floats past, but I cannot keep it in sight. Vision is blurring badly. Thoughts tangle into twisted twine. Everything spinning. So much pain. Everything is so light. The tiny men below seem so small from here. _You must focus! He must wake himself!_

Ground drawing closer. Tiny men grow bigger in my sight. Pain turns into numbness. Everything grows so light. Everything…spinning…

Closer. My head tilts up and aims pointlessly upward. Pretty sky. Pretty, angry clouds. _You must focus, Hope! He will…please?_

Pretty clouds…pretty, giant birdys…

_You will wake up! He…HOPE!_

Everything is growing dark. So light. So numb. Wind is rushing past my limp body.

Giant, white…birdys…

_You…must. He…_

So light…so…numb…falling…

Darkness…


	4. Chapter 4: Where am I?

Mountains tower in the sky. White blankets caress the jagged curves of the looming stone structures. Slopes born of heavy dirt drag down to a small town. Flame vomit pillars of ashy, black smoke into the broken air.

Some walls hold firm, while others lay broken in the wake of destruction. Red lashes leap from smoldering ruins. Orange pockets crash into murky, white and brown soil. Dirty bodies scatter across the frozen terrain. Shattered weapons wrap within welcoming slivers of snow.

Cold air bites at the sides of my face. Frosty tendrils permeate through thin layers of weak clothing. Icy fingers flick the depths of my senses and pluck at the strength of my nerves. All strike at my might. All attack my will. All…drive my sight forward…

Once again, I am alone.

Ahead is a mangled corpse at the feet of the dark evil. Black armor hangs heavily on the shoulders of the sinister construct. A finely blade rests firmly in the snow. Blue pukes from all pores of the being.

The Lich King.

His borders appear hazy and broken. It is as if he is the background of some unfocused eye. It must be some black magic. It must be some horrible evil! He is mocking me! He is trying to fool me.

My fingers grip against the wooden shaft of my shovel. My eyes lock with the dark being before me. Muscles tighten for the attack. Thoughts burn a raging fire for his destruction. I will end him!

Feet dig through firm pockets of matted snow. Legs pull forward and guide the motivated body forward. Arms lift the might of my weapon. Eyes burn against his cloudy figure. I will destroy him!

I near him. His figure draws larger and closer as I barrel forward. Hate courses my narrow veins. Rage rattles my normally calm figure. Revenge guides me perfectly. I will kill him!

Silence sweeps across the two of us. Only the sounds of my thudding feet fill the air. Only the sounds of my rumbling heart destroy any hopes for tranquility. Only the crackling of fire distracts us…

I will end you, Lich King!

Arms lift high. I can feel his frosty chill wash over me, but it will not stop my anger. It will not stop my rage! Metal sweeps air. Rage crushes a calm soul. Nothing will stop me! Nothing! You will bow to me, false King!

Nothing but a surge of darkness.

Everything vanishes into a black abyss. My arms sink to the weightless dark matter. Where did he go?! Where is he?! Stop this! I will not let you get away with this! I will not let you…

A deep voice shatters the dark void and ceases all thought, "Rage will guide you. Follow it; bring the dark shroud to your light. "

His words so close. His words are so bitter. Show your face, coward! Show me, so I can end you!

Suddenly the bellow returns, "Return, Hope. Obey…your master…"

Show yourself!

Warm washes across my face. Instantly the utter darkness falls from my sight, as the once heavy lids break apart. Sadly, the room is not any brighter than my wonderful dream. I fidget upon a coarse, flimsy surface. Strange pockets of unpleasant strands stick to my clothing and tangle in my air. _You are lying in hay. He is a tiny horse._

There is barely any light here. I extend my arms and find nothing but air. Finger outstretch in attempts to find anything. My body flops forward, and my knees hit the ground with a hard thud. Ouch. _You should not have done that. He got a booboo._

Am I dead? _You are not. He is somewhere much worse…_

Crawling across hard stone, I feel bits of my clothing rib and warm sensations burn on my knees. Arms continue to sweep. Sadly, they continue to find nothing…

TING

Fingers crack horrifically while a sharp pain trickles down my arm. Retracting my arm, I grip the throbbing fingers and pull my face forward. What was that? I squint and after a second a gray blur fills my sight. Actually, it would seem that a good dozen of these shadowy objects fill my vision.

Thick, gray cylinder is what rests before me. I carefully draw my hands forward and let my fingers wrap around the cold metal. Dozens of these…lined next to each other. It takes only a second for me to realize where I am…

A prison.

Really? How did I end up in the prison? That doesn't even make sense. What kind of terrible plot twist is this? _You are lucky to be alive. He is lucky to be a tiny horse that is still breathing_. Will you stop calling me a tiny horse! Wait, what does that even mean? No, I do not care. Where am I?

You already know that. He is in a prison, duh? Yes, but where is the prison that I know I am located inside of? You have no idea. He is alone on that one.

You guys are helpful. Really. _You know we try. He knows we sometimes do._ Bah, I will figure this out on my own. I shuffle upon the rustling hay. Pricks poke my knees and palms of my hands. Bars bump my wriggling hips and shoulders.

There has to be something of significance here. _You are looking for what? He is looking for a friend?_ Suddenly I feel something icy cold upon my left palm. My body locks while my hand carefully grips around the frosty object. It is slender and rather smooth, yet rough. What in the world? _You should put that down. He doesn't need that._

Slowly I lift to my face. I can barely see through this annoyingly thick shroud. A little closer I draw it. What could it possibly be? Wait….gah! A loud clank follows as I drop the disgusting item to the floor. The sound echoes across the hollowed walls as I scoot backwards in a bit of a panic.

That…was a bone! A bone…leg, ah! _You heard us. He should have listened._

_CAAAAAAHLING_

Metal clawing against claw fills the air. A high-pitched, unnerving hiss follows after. With it comes a burst of light that pours down a now visible staircase with ease. My eyes lock upon the shifting, playful light with utter determination.

A second passes and a black blotch fills the beautiful void. The shadow bares the shape of a man, yet is thick and misshapen. Is some sort of monster? _You twit, the shadow is bulgy because of a robe. He is a tool. _Oh…that makes sense…

"Where are you going?!" A voice radiates down the stairwell and booms into the tiny room. "Vrykul have attacked the main gates! We have no time for useless prisoners!"

There is a brief silence before the now distant voice shouts again, "Fools!"

Another voice replies, "Forget them, to the gates! To the gates." The sound seems to travel quickly and fades just as fast.

Footsteps rattle overhead. The steps cease in seconds, but the shadows still lurk at the same location as before. One shifts back a bit, and once again I hear voices. This time, however, they are whispers coming from the unseen lurkers.

Feet pound heavily on the planks and in a flash the shadows elongate, shorten, and almost disappear as two cloaked figures rush down the steps and to a partially opened gate. The leading figure knocks the door open with ease and sweeps across the murky floor. The other rests at the base of the stairs and stands firmly.

Dust scatters at the base of the individual shifting towards me. Rats skitter from their once unknown hiding places to new ones. Hay drags back as the heavy cloak knocks it from its path.

In a flash the figure looms over my door. A blackened hood shrouds all facial features of the individual, but I can still feel its glare. Oddly the figure shakes and whips its head down. It glances at something at its side before a limb grips something.

Metal scratches metal as a long blade is revealed. Light glints from the sides of the blade as it twirls in the air. My unknown guest holds it firmly in its hand before whipping it over its head and thrashing it downward.

_CAAAHCLING_

Sparks shoot from the side of a collapsing lock. The door screeches maddeningly as the mysterious figure slides the heavy object outwards. Robes rustle at the edges of the figure, and shuffle as an arm extends for me.

An unexpected, soft, sweet feminine voice erupts, "Hope Blackwood, come, we must leave."

I do not move. Muscles in my neck tighten, but my eyes dart side to side as well as up and down. Impatiently the arm shakes a bit violently, but I still cannot move. What if it is a trick? _You really don't have any better options. He might as well get killed by wandering cloaked figures_.

Again the voice booms, but this time much harder, "Champion, get to your feet! We must move!"

Without hesitation I whip my right arm upward and grip the firm hand. She tugs me rather hard, and I fly to my feet. I cannot help but stumble for a bit. The figure grabs my arm and spins to the other robed individual.

Quickly she drags me forward, and all three of us dart up the stairs. Wooden planks creak with every step taken. Walls whisper a strange nothing as the robes whip against them. Light warms my cold skin and burns that horrible image of that bone from my mind. _You sissy. He has seen worse._

We shoot past a stony courtyard and through a pair of heavy steel gates. Once through, the sounds of battle blare against my once calm mind. My eyes dart upward at the flickering flames of the building tops and torched towers.

Warriors mass at the parapets while giants appear and fall with their assault. Overhead I make out the red, armored flesh of the sickeningly familiar drakes. The beasts attempt to rain hell upon the warriors, but beautiful, winged birds guide the might of tiny soldiers to the Drakes' demise.

Wait…giant white bird. That is what I saw from earlier! _You are correct. He saw a Gryphon, not a giant white bird._

A sharp force jerks at my arm, and I look back down. Soldiers scurry in the background of my sight as I peer into the new visible face of the young woman. I cannot make out much of the appearance, but I can see a pair of bright green eyes that burn rather fiercely at me. _You do have a tendency to enrage the opposite sex. He makes women angry._

She gives me one last tug before she lasts go and yells at me, "What are you standing around for? We need to move!"

I look into her eyes and let my curious thoughts search her sight for answers. She glares at me angrily than before, but I cannot bring myself to move. I have no idea what is going on, and I need some answers before I can keep going.

Up righting myself, I gather my courage and speak confidently, "Who are you? And why are you so pretty?!"

_You are really special. He needs to stop doing that! _I am sorry, I snapped! You both know I am terrible under pressure.

Instantly the frustration fades from her face and her eyes dart upwards. She leaps forward grips my shoulders firmly and shouts, "Look out!"

In a blurred moment I fall forward with the tugging, tiny individual. A booming rumble shakes the world. Pressure sweeps the sides of my body. Heat hugs the course of my body. Dirt sprinkles all edges of my figure and I feel the young individual drag me close.

It ends.

I open my eyes and look upwards. Eyes sweep forward and then to the side. A small burning and crackling crater rests at the foot of the entrance, yards away from where we were standing. Sweeping back, I see the other cloaked figure pull to it's feet and dust its robe.

Before I can look, a squeaky, near muffled voice speaks, "Are you alright, Hope?"

Instantly I throw my vision down at the woman. She rests under my crushing weight and I instantly flinch. My arms slam to the side and push off the ground to let her breath. She draws air and coughs a bit.

Rather awkwardly I speak, "Um, I am good." I clear my throat, "How about yourself?"

She coughs again and looks at me, "Nothing ignorance cannot fix." She pauses briefly to glance downwards. Her eyes fly back up to me and she smirks oddly, "Could you…get up?"

_You sly dog, you! He is a player after all._

Again a strange awkward feeling flushes my flesh, and I fall to the side. I scamper to my feet and reach down to her. With a tug I get her to her feet. She shakes herself clean, and her red hair bounces as it does.

Her hood obviously fell during the strange little romp, and her face is completely illuminated by the dull light allowed through the clouds. Her red hair clings to the sides of her young face, and her green eyes seem brighter now. Smooth skin is interrupted by specs of dirt that she swiftly sweeps away.

She almost seems familiar…

The other figure shouts a manly, firm voice, "Come, you two, we haven't much time!"

My head twists and I see the man standing near a cracked portion of wall. The both of us scurry forward as the growing sounds of engagement seem to travel towards us. We slip past the broken barricade and slide onto a firm, sloping mud cliff. Ahead of us are a couple properly positioned horses wait patiently.

As we jog I hear the man speak again, "Thank the light, they are still here."

It would seem my friends here put these beasts here. _You are quick. He is the master of observation, remember?_

We reach the animals in no time. The man leaps on to the back of a rather beautiful, white creature, while the young woman slides onto the back of a black one. Sadly, there is no animal for me. _You are hoofing it. He needs the exercise._

The young woman looks back at me and slaps the beast's back, "You ride with me, Champion."

_You are really a beast! He is a smooth, suave, he-beast._ Shut it! In a hurry I rush to the horse, foolishly reach for whatever you use to get on one of these, and stumble clumsily. Thankfully the girl grabs me and gives me the aid I need.

Once I am fitted on the saddle…thing…she whips the reins and the three of us take off. We navigate down a narrow dirt path that would be almost impossible to see from most directions.

To our right the giants fight with the furious tiny warriors and humans. That had to be an alliance outpost. _You are one step behind on that one. He is a whole block behind. _To the left is a deep jagged chasm that seems to go on forever. What a terrific spot.

Suddenly a hard object bangs my leg and I painfully glance down. There, bouncing against my calf is a long, metallic object and a wooden instrument for digging. I smile, reach to the weapon and pull it to my chest.

My gun.

I have no idea where they got it, or how, but hell, it is back in my hands again. Good enough. Reaching down again, I grab a few rounds and shove them in my pant pockets. I rock a bit as the horse slows to let the other rider move ahead. It would seem that the pass is getting narrower.

As we continue forward, I take one round and jerk the bolt back. The metal item of destruction glides easily into its chamber before I ram the bolt forward. I smile a bit. Sadly, the sense of satisfaction instantly slides from my being.

Rumbling rips across the skies. Before I can even turn, a whoosh of air ripples fiercely against my face. A flash of black slams into the wall next to me and vanishes out of sight. Spinning to my left, I let the red behemoth fill my vision.

Heavy wings pummel the air. Long legs sweep side to side. Bony scales run the length of the body and line parallel to a narrow dirt path. Upon its back is a tall, golden haired giant. It's dreadlocks bounce against its back as it draws its bow to its face.

My short, matted hair clings to my face as my gun rises to meet his. His arm drags back the heavy string. My hand grips the handle. His eyes lock with mine. Mine lock with his.

TWANG, TITHBURSH

Another flash of black. Dirt bounces against my right side, but I do not care. The rider jerks back, drops his bow. He leans forward, but slaps his beast once before he goes limp.

Instantly, the beast opens its mouth. Flame flicks from the corners of jaws. Heat distorts the air as it flies. Tendrils reach in all directions as the unstable ball of destruction gathers.

Reload!

Bolt back, round in, bolt forward. To my shoulder. Fire!

TITHBURSH

Sparks fly from the side of the beast's head as the round harmlessly bounces away. The creature jerks oddly before opening its mouth completely. A hurling ball of flame burns air as it soars. Dirt flies in all directions as a pillar of fire shoots a blast of destruction yards ahead of us.

Pockets of burning mud slap against the sides of my face. The horses stumble, but keep firm. In a flash we enter the churning abyss, and leave it.

Instantly the man shouts, "To the bridge, young crusader! We must make it!"

My eyes dart upward. The path winds only a bit more before swerving into the deep chasm. There a wooden bridge guides for a safe route away from this hellish town. Sadly, we are not the only one aiming for it.

Again the beast roars, and I look back to it. The rider tugs the reins of the beast and laughs loudly. Finally he pulls the rope before slumping backwards. Life escapes him at last, but not before he provoked his beast. That jerk! _You tell him! He shouts angrily!_

The monster's black eyes yell all the tales of terror and declares damnation for it's victims. Flames bite the finely crafted fangs. The tongue whips the calm sparks into frenzy. It's wings beat the air with little mercy.

Its body is still aligned with the rocky walls of the vertical drop. It flies directly for the bridge ahead. I lift my gun, but I know the futility behind it. I continue to aim while the beast takes its target.

Ahead the front rider cracks the reins and yells back, "It must not beat us! We must make it over that bridge!"

He leans forward and cracks the reins again. Slowly the animal gains speed. It gathers distance on us in seconds, and the young woman does not hesitate any longer to lift and let fall her controls.

I can feel the horse below move, but my eyes divert back to the beast. It has slowed considerably, but the fire building continues on. Our animals shoot around the bend. We near the bridge quickly. From the corner of my eye I see the monster ceases all movement.

My heart sinks, yet lets its beat known. Ripples of anxiety flow through the confines of my body. Eyes lock ahead yet stay firmly toned to assaulting creature. The sounds of war escape any acknowledgement.

We round the bend. Dirt slowly fades to bundled rope and wood. Muscles in my arm loosen to let the gun slide back into the holder. They tighten again as my fingers find the cold wood of my shovel.

I raise the weapon and bring it to my chest. Curious eyes scan all ends of the item before I lift it and aim it at the beast. Again the orbs scan the blade, but this time I align the tip with the monster.

I have no idea if this is going to work. _You hope it does. He prays it does._

A sweet voice screams from near by, "A shovel?! What in the world are you going to do with a shovel?!"

I ignore her. My eyes lock and my eyebrows drag down. A massive ball of fire claws feverishly to escape the cage of bone and molten saliva. _Thudthudthudthud. _Clanking hooves slam against wooden planks.

Focus, Hope, focus. _You have the idea. He has learned well. You must now remember all the heroes of this world. He must remember the all those living to die and those dying to live._

Remember the wounded and broken. Remember the lost and crushed. Remember the heroes and the villains. Remember the dead. Remember the heroes. Remember.

Light sparks from the runes at the tip of the blade. Whipping flares of glowing light bounces from the end of the weapon. _Thudthudthudthud. _We move to the center of the bridge.

The beast opens its jaws, letting forth the orb of chaos. Energy built from depths of hell burns through the air. It moves at untold speed. It moves directly towards us. We will not beat it.

Focus.

Waves of bright energy waft from the front of my blade. Humming vibrations blurt loudly from the crafted tool. My eyes locked firmly on my target. Focus, Hope.

Fire nears the rope structure. The calls from the riders are dwarfed by the calls within my head. Only the orb. Only my weapon. Only my focus.

Flames boom loudly. Fire blocks all vision. Only my weapon. Only my focus. Only me.

Ahead one voice breaks through. "Let the light guide you!"

And so it shall.

Flash. A massive, sight-shattering ball of light breaks from my weapon and barrels outward.

And it may it guide the beast.


	5. Chapter 5: Watched

"What in the world was that?" The young, calming tender voice wafts back to me.

My arm still is locked in the same position as prior. My hand grips the firm handle with all might left. My eyes ride the stock and barrel of shovel of the smoking blade. Fading light leaves behind a chilled, dark gray residue.

Breath, Hope, breath.

The burning fireball still sticks to my retinas. Only inches away from our faces, yet I still managed to fire my weapon. Spinning tendrils and spiking flares of illuminating energy tore the red ball asunder. Air parted and fled as the coursing ball released its terror on the calm sky and on the unsuspecting creature.

Sadly the shot did not vaporize the beast, but instead sent it tumbling down the deep chasm to an unknown yet rather certain fate. For us, well, we darted across the rest of the tiny bridge and on to a heavier dirt path. Behind us was left the roars and rumbles of a mighty battle.

_You done good, sir. He did quite excellently._

Back muscles quake as I lean backward. My left arm reaches and braces the buckling spine. The other limb extends back, down, and towards the tiny sack where my shovel was once before. Slipping it in place, I gather myself and lean back forward.

I notice trees towering to the sides while various creatures scurry at their bases. Giant webs cover some of the bulky barky structures, while muddy streams rush around clumps of them.

My back slumps into a perfect, comfortable location and my eyes sweep back to the woman ahead. As I come to a complete resting position the young woman repeats, "What was that?"

Fingers lift back up and run calmly through the thick hair upon my head. A few lost strands bounce and blur my vision. My eyes dart up towards the slowly darkening skies before they fall back down to the young lady.

I shrug at her and let loose a short answer, "Power of the light."

Thin eyebrows draw downward. Angry green orbs lock firmly upon my dulling gray pupils. Sweat builds at the edges of my brow and sweep across the vast of my face. Nervous nerves twitch. _You are letting her get to you. He needs to be a man!_

The horse trots slowly, but her eyes still scream a thousand words a second. Sadly, she also speaks a thousand words a minute.

"What do you mean, 'the light?' Are you messing with me?" Her face draws closer to mine, "Let me tell you something, Champion, I do not like being messed with."

Muscles lax in my lower jaw. Strange sounds emit from the back of my throat, but no actual words slip through. Her dark red eyebrows lift upwards, and she snorts angrily. She makes to speak, but again, a surge of rage causes her to simply grunt loudly.

From the corner of my eye I can see the second rider slowing and moving to our sides. Unfortunately for me I am unable to break sight with the woman ahead. It is as if she is crushing my soul with her sight alone. _You need to relax. He needs a good rum._

Her mouth opens and she makes to speak. However, the other cloaked figure raises his hand, and her once piercing vision darts over to him. Instantly her flaring soul is quelled and all the tension of enraged estrogen fades away.

He chuckles weakly before speaking.

"My dear, he is Hope Blackwood." Ropey reins draw to his body, "We have both heard tale of his marvelous feats." Robes shift as he turns to look at me, "No doubt about it, young crusader, that was the full fury of the light."

Thank you, mysterious rider. _You said it. He silenced his way into victory._

Silence sweeps the three of us. At the same a bit of anxiety clenches me. Thoughts and questions of past events begin seeping into the empty void of my mind, and I now find myself lost in a torrent of ideas. _You should probably ask a few. He is going to make us do it for him, isn't he?_

Sighing I release a bit of stress before speaking, "Where are we?"

The robed figure does not turn to me as he speaks, "Where are we? Well, Champion, we are delving deep in the northern forests of the zone deemed Howling Fjord."

His robes twists as he looks back to me, "Of course, from your expression I am betting you are going to need far more than a location to settle your mind."

He has me pinned perfectly. _You were read harder than a book with no cover. He got called out._

With a gentle tug of the reins and a quick repositioning the man shifts back bit and begins to speak.

"Where to begin? Where to begin? Ah yes, yes, you are probably curious on the events that led to you current lively state, am I correct?"

I nod and say, "Yes, knowing how I went from falling to sleeping a prison cell would help fill in a lot of this puzzle."

He chuckles and replies, "Most definitely." There is a slight pause before he continues, "For some time now the force known as the Argent Crusade as been watching you. From the moment you left the shores of Kalimdor until this very second, we have had a keen eye on you."

The horse nays suddenly and interrupts the man. He quickly calms the beast before looking back at me. From here I can barely make out his face, but a slight glint of light reveals his eyes. Each orb aligns perfectly upon my being. Each orb focuses intently, yet beams a bright sense of tranquilly.

Then, as we stare he speaks, "You are more a simple place amongst the world's ignorance. You are more than the simplistic armies of the Alliance and the Horde combined. You are…the light."

He leans from the side and draws ever closer to me, "You are the savior." He pauses briefly, "You give to this world what it needs most."

Bright blue eyes radiate in the light. White hair wafts from his chin and around the corners of his face. Blackness engulfs the rest of his expression, but I can see him clearly. I can see his determination and focus.

And I can hear his words louder than ever, "You give us…hope."

His eyes lock for a mine a moment longer. As the do a warm sense of triumph floats down the back of my tough spine. Energy courses through my once cold veins. His words burn deep inside me. _You are rejuvenated! He is reborn._

Instantly he recoils back to his original position and readjusts himself. Robes rustle across his body as he repositions his armor underneath his clothing. Bulky shoulder pads shift beneath the cloth for a moment longer before he grips the reins.

Without looking back to me he speaks now.

"And that is why we have followed you. Followed you all the way to Northrend through the mist and frozen air." He looks back, but to his accomplice this time, "If it were not for the skillful talents of my fine Gryphon rider here, this world would be lacking something beyond a hero."

That makes a whole lot more sense now. They came in on those winged, big birds, plucked me out of the air, and whammo, in a jail cell. Wait, that does not make any sense. _You are right. He is confused again._

I glance over the rider and speak, "Well, how did I end up in a prison cell?"

The young woman giggles and turns her head back to me, "Well, we brought you in, and when we couldn't explain how we went out with two and ended up with three, the commander of the Alliance Post deemed you suitable to interrogate."

She sighs before throwing her free hand in the air, "Politics amongst the un-political. Always fantastic."

The man takes over this time, "Yes, and despite the misfortune of the Vrykul assault, we found ourselves in fortuitous circumstances. A great distraction for an equally as fitting escape."

He pauses as something to his side catches his attention. Unable to control myself, I lean back and look in his direction. From here I can make out a few sparse trees, and what appears to a lone, furry animal.

It is rather tall and long. Long, black ears flutter side to side as it watches us as keenly as we do to it. Red eyes burn through the thick shadows of its hide out. Those same eyes give sight to the gnarled fangs within the long snout below. _You see a huge puppy! He sees a dog above him on the food chain!_

My thoughts are interrupted by the man, "Yes, our departure was a gift of fortune, but the assault was something destined by another hand."

I cannot help but reply to his statement, "What does that mean?"

He twists back to me, "It seems rather odd that the remaining Vrykul forces in this region would simply amass and surge our most fortified of positions. Something stirred them into aggression."

The young woman responds, "You mean the Lich King ordered them to attack?"

A moment passes before he answers with a nod.

"But why?"

He turns his head again to glance at the occasional wolf before looking back to her.

"My only guess is that he knows something worth stopping has arrived on these shores. Some entity worth throwing entire legions at."

Dry, unpleasant cold grips my throat. Nervousness sweeps my tensely tightening muscles. I swallow hard in attempts to remove the chilling bite strangling me. A second later I hesitantly ask.

"Are we talking about…me?"

He barely twists, but I know he is looking back at me.

"My boy, you have no reason to concern yourself. Entire legions are no match to the might of the Crusade."

The woman turns and smiles.

"The grand Lord Fordring himself has sent his best knights to assist you." She nods confidently, "You are safe with us, Hope."

I nod half-heartedly. Once again thoughts cloud my focus. One word destroys all other thoughts. One name crushes the rest. Fordring. I know that name. I am not sure how, but I do. _You are certain. He knows it most definitely._

"You ok, Hope?" Again the sweet voice brings me back to reality.

Fidgeting for a moment, I attempt to gain my composure before I think of an answer. Forget it, Hope, just say something. Anything.

"Um, well, yeah." Fingers scrape against my scalp, "What are you guys…exactly assisting me with? I am kind of in the dark here."

Her smile fades from her face and she clears her throat awkwardly. Red hair flops across the sides of her face as she looks to her fellow crusader. Without hesitation the figure nods, lean on his saddle and looks at me.

Clothing rustles at the edges of his hand as positions it.

"Recently the Crusade constructed a massive facility. Harbored within its walls are evils beyond imaging. Heroes from around the world have come to best them. To show that they are ready to face the Lich King himself."

He raises his arm, "It is there you will show the world you strength. Upon the tried grounds of the trial, you shall show us why the Lich King fears you."

Loose fabric dances again as his arm descends. His body flinches as he shifts back forward. Ahead of me the other Crusader shifts forward. Silence. Besides the thudding hooves and rustling wilderness, there is silence.

Curious orbs within my rather flooded head shift to the trees again. Almost immediately I see more of the red, piercing eyes than before. Actually, there would seem to be three or four pairs. They simply lurk in the shadows, but they are definitely there. _You see right. He sees perfectly._

Focus breaks and I stare forward again. Attention diverts to the slightly bouncing young woman ahead of me. She leans back partially as she lets the rhythmic flow of the horse show. Pockets of red strands shift delicately as she falls and tighten to her head as she lifts up.

Uncontrollably my mouth opens and I speak, "So, who are you?"

There is a brief pause and hesitation before she oddly looks back to me. Only one green orb comes into sight, but I know she looks at me, "Excuse me?"

Again I say, "Who are you?"

She pauses glances to the other rider and then looks back to me.

"Um, my name is Jessica. I have been part of the Argent Dawn and the Crusade since the horrible plague ravaged the lands of the Eastern Kingdoms."

I speak without thinking.

"Wait, how old are you?" Pausing briefly, I rethink that question and hastily blurt, "I mean, you do not look that old. Wait…"

She giggles and shakes her head.

"To answer your question, I was fourteen when I joined the Dawn, and just recently arrived to aid the Crusade. That was six years ago." There is a brief pause as she frowns, "You do the math." Her tone became angry and harsh.

She makes to move forward, but sighs and raises her free hand to her face. Her short, slender fingers glide across her face before she speaks.

"I apologize. I did not mean anything, just bad memories."

My hand reaches forward, and I let it slide over her shoulder. It tightens and I nod to her.

"Nothing to apologize for. I know what you mean."

She does not say a thing. Green orbs glint in the light. Soft skin glows gently. From the corner of her eye I see a patch that sparkles dimly. It travels down slowly. Smoothly my hand moves from the shoulder and glides down the sparkling globe's path.

My finger slides against the tear and I whip it from her face. She blinks and she smirks weakly.

A smile sweeps my face, and I cannot help, but say, "Jessica, look at this way, your father wasn't a necromancer and your best friend isn't a thin, fleshless jerk."

She stares at me uncomfortably. A frown forms as her eyebrows shift upwards. Muscles churn in my stomach, but instantly relax as she tilts her back and laughs. Her hand flies to her mouth, and she attempts to compose herself. All of her face vanishes as she directs herself back forward. Unfortunately for her I can still see her shoulders moving as she laughs.

Movement sparks my attention. Robes wriggle on the manly figure as he chuckles to the comment. Apparently the both of them know my background. _You know everyone knows your past. He has a crazy lifeline._

Again movement draws my focus. This time, however, it comes from the darkened shadows of the thickening tree line. A pair of angry red sparks bloom in the dark. It is then I notice more than dozen flaming lights glaring back at me.

That is not a good thing. _You think? He isn't thinking, he is soiling himself!_

My mouth slides open and I emit as quietly as I can to the two others, "Any one else feel uncomfortable?"

Jessica twists back to me, but her eyes do not make it to me. Eyes widen and her mouth drops. Lips quiver, but no words escape. Reins tighten and jerk backwards as her trembling hands motion for speed.

Hooves pound against the dirt ground, and we slowly accelerate. My eyes glance back to the shadows, but quickly dart forward again. Ahead I can see a white path that leads back to the sparse foliage of prior. Sadly, the blackened forest still stretches for some time.

Movement. This time, unfortunately, it comes from the right side of my vision. Thunderstorms gather on the borders of my bony sea. Tides churn the vast oceans of my gut. Pipes swell as pressure build from the pumping blood.

On this side are dozens of horrifying, red orbs. I had not seen them before due to the thick spider webbing and dirt mounds, but now they are more than apparent. Another pair emerges after another.

Suddenly, and disconcertingly, a massive black mound of fur breaks from the looming cover. Heavy paws pat the dirt beneath its gnarled claws. Drool drips from the edges of the jaws. Nostrils flare. Bright, enraged eyes pierce directly at me.

Speed increases rapidly from the horse below. Adrenaline begins to pump freely through the already narrowed passages of my body. Hair straightens on the vast of my body in fright. Lungs shovel mounds of air in and release gas clouds of burnt fuel.

A growl draws my attention to the other side. Two more pups appear from the darkness. In seconds the three of them line behind our quickly moving steeds. Their limbs thud against the hard ground. Second by second they gain speed.

Suddenly the one in the middle jerks violently. Horrifically it's front shoulders snap outwards. Dark eyes fly downwards as the spine of the beast breaks, ripples, and realigns. It's fur wafts in and shortens on all ends of it's body. Elbows bend inwards, crack and snap sickeningly.

The violent shaking ceases.

Its front paws shift through with the dirt. Twisted claws dig into the crusty soil. Red eyes burn. Unexpectedly the jaw of beast shifts and a loud, bellowing, dark voice whips upon the wind.

"Obey the call! Obey your master."

Back legs of the beast shift and lock on the ground. Shoulders drag up and reposition over the bulk of the body, while heavy arms leave the soil behind. A dense, shifting head glares continuously at the ground before suddenly reeling to the breaking point of its spine. It draws its shoulders back, and its arms curl to the sides.

Standing upright, the once normal dog howls upon the broken skies. A sound of a twisted soul crashes like a tidal wave upon a shore. Birds tear from their once safe heavens. Tiny critters scurry across the frozen soil. Large hounds of equally as sinister qualities trot to the rugged road.

As the beast stands amongst the soil, we gain on it, but its howl still penetrates to us. Its howl still wraps around our minds. It still strikes at our souls and lashes at our sanity. It screams to us…and calls to its counterparts.

The howling, upright monster shifts its jaw back to normality. Red eyes secrete wriggling dark flames as it twisted sight bears down on us. Swiftly it lifts its arm and points menacingly in our direction.

"Hope Blackwood, the master will not be denied!"

Dozens of hounds stride speedily towards us. Bodies quake and shake as they pursue us. As they chase their limbs disjoint. As they follow their body contorts. As they trail, their structure rearranges. As they track, their hunger is shown.

Reins snap and crack. Legs crush firm ground. Straight ahead light breaks upon our bodies. Second by second we gather speed, but the lumbering, rumbling beasts close in quickly.

As we near the borders of the forest, I reach for my gun, draw it to my chest, and load the round. I do not look back for a moment. Regretfully I turn my head and take in the narrowing pack.

It is then that the woman in front of my finally shouts, "Worgen!"

Worgen? _You now know their names. He knows their identification_.

I do not care what they are. I do not care where they come from. I do not care of their names. All I care about is escaping this forest.

I lift my weapon to my shoulder.

All I care about is bringing the light to these mindless monsters.

Catch.

TITHBURSH 


	6. Chapter 6: The Light

Dirt cracks beneath the treaded hooves of our riled rides. Light crashes upon our chilled bodies. Warmth builds upon our frosty flesh. Chilled, yet refreshing wind slaps the sides of our faces.

TITHBURSH

All would be far more rewarding if the pursuing pack was not so determined. _You said it. He should still enjoy it. _ The bolt jerks backwards. A metallic round collides with the inside of the chamber. The bolt slides forward.

Focus, Hope, focus.

TITHBURSH

Dirt breaks into clouds as one of the beast trips over its own feet. Its body mingles with the pockets of broken soil before coming to rest. In a flash the trailing beasts cover the defeated one's place.

Howls splinter the spirit as they rumble across the skies. Yelp after yelp, screech after screech, dark bark after bark, the beasts continue the chase. Snow packs into the soil as the furious claws pound it mercilessly.

I make to reload, but I know the futilely of it. Round after round could break a few bodies, but there needs to be more. _You need more power! He needs to charge his laser!_

Slipping the gun back into place, I take a second to look back ahead. The manly rider pulls close to his horse, as does Jessica. The both of them focus firmly on the route ahead; a path that leads to another forest.

Unlike the previous dense pocket of trees, this one is rather lush and illuminated by what appears to be the sun. Also, massive cliffs and rocky terrain juts and runs in all directions.

You need to look back. He needs to stop daydreaming!

Reaching down I grip the handle of my shovel, pull it to both hands, and spin back to the pack. Adrenaline bursts from within. Muscles lock and stabilize as the sight startles me. A yard from our mount is a rather speedy beast. Fangs puke pools of drool. Eyes secrete rage. Vocal cords vomit hate.

Focus, Hope, focus! Remember the dead! Remember the light!

Light quickly builds at the tip of the blade. Claws leap from the soil. Runes glow. Teeth glint in the daylight. Energy gathers. Hate focuses.

Flash

Raw power slams into the chest of the beast. It clings to the torso and drags the body back. Limps wrap the sides of the crushing orb. A second passes; the gimp pup slides from the rotating orb. It bounces once, twice. Another second passes…

BURSH

Worgen fly from the impact spot. A pillar of white, black, and brown plows into the sky. Dirt sprinkles and rains upon the still chasing pack. It would seem that these animals did not have enough. _You need to feed their hunger! He doesn't want them to wait!_

Again the blade lifts to my face. Focus, Hope, focus. Bring these beasts the end of their path. Bring them the strength of the dead. Bring them…

Howls break my focus. It bellows loudly from my side. Twisting in my spot, I watch the hills to the side. Black caves litter the tops of the white mounds to the right. My stomach churns again.

Howls return from the spot just as the black figures appear. Dozens upon dozens of hounds plow through the thick snow. Their four legs drag them quickly towards us while the hill aids their mission.

I lift my shovel and aim at the new descending pack. I wait patiently for them to shift into their horrifying visage, but even as they near us they do not change. Black pupils blare at us, but do not burn the same hate as the others. What should I do?

You need to act fast! He needs to do it quickly!

Appearing from the top of the hill is a dog that stands twice the height as the others. Streaks of white run down its belly and its sides. It howls loudly before leaping forward and colliding into the hill. It aims directly for us. What should I do?!

_You need to decide. He needs to stop hesitating._

They near us from the side. Claws dig loudly from behind. What should I do?! Hope, decide, man, decide! Howls hiss from our flank. Rage burns from behind. Decide! A rumbling humming sound blares from my shovel. Decide! A loud release of energy blares from the blade.

Flash

As I spin to the manly rider, I catch a few chasing Worgen. Their position was almost perfect for a strike. Dirt explodes again, while defeated wolf-men collide into the ground.

Howls return, and I feel a shiver ripple down my spine. I twist to see behind me. Closer than he prior beast, is another Worgen. Its legs are already locked in a leaping stance. It is too late for me get a shot ready. It is too late to stop it. It is too late…

Emerging from the corner of my vision is a black wolf. It's paws stretch outwards. It slams hard into the side of the assaulting wolf-man. Limbs wrap around arms as the two tumble in a circular manner.

The two come to a stop, and the Worgen grabs the dog's front legs. The jaws snap and lurch past the Worgen's attacking front legs. Angry teeth crush the skull of an unsuspecting enemy. It's arms go limp and the wolf clambers back to its feet. As it does, dozens of wolves collide with the Worgen.

A battle of the Hounds.

Hundreds of both species take to each other's throats. Pups are mangled and crushed by overwhelming claws. Wolf-men snap and break to pouncing beasts. I make to fire another burst, but the mixed forces cease my attack.

A loud, rumbling howl bellows. Flinging my head towards the noise, I take in the sight of the massive hound. Strands of smooth, heavy hair waft in the chilling breeze. Large glowing eyes stream light in our directions. Clouds of warm air flutter from the ends of its nostrils as its large paws crush the snow near the road.

"Heroes of the light, muster your strength," Massive, pounding jaws release a deep howl of a voice, "My pups and I shall break these insects in their tracks!"

"For the light, mighty warrior!" From ahead the voice of the manly rider rumbles loudly, "For the light!"

The hound lurches back, "Fight my brothers! Let this world know that we stood this day! We shall not go down lacking of fight!"

Flinging his head back he prepares himself. A high-pitched, drawn cry bellows across the sky. All of the battle comes to a silence. The wind calms and breaks. Tranquility sets as the beast lets loose a cry of the ages.

If only it would last…

His mouth slides shut, and his head glides back down. Echoes bounce across the sky for soldiers miles away to hear. Paws dig into the snow. Gleaming eyes lock to enemies to our sides.

As we pass the mighty beast fully, he leaps forward and slams into intervening Worgen. Mighty teeth gnash at the small wolf-men. Gigantic claws maim miniature werewolves. Fangs flare in the light.

"Come to me, little morsels!" The wolf shouts, "Your tiny bodies are nothing! Nothing!"

In seconds he begins to fade from my sight. I twist to continue to watch the fight. Wolves flank the enemies while Worgen group to counter. Blood baths the once pure white powder beneath their paws. Hair mangles and knots as limbs twist and flail.

They slowly fade in the distance. I can still make out the fight, but they fade behind us. Occasionally a Worgen slips past and continues on its pursuit to us, but it is easily intercepted and quelled. No Worgen will reach us this day.

Suddenly the crunching of hooves and snow fades. My eyes divert down and I see the snow coming to an end. Green patches quickly become the norm until finally all that remains are green grass blades lightly drizzled with snow.

Curious orbs jerk upwards. Ahead are massive hills and cliff walls that hug the path perfectly. Foliage runs up the crevices on the walls, while roots dig their way down. Trees tower into the sky creating large pockets of shadow that litter the path as heavily as their own leaves.

Hooves continue to break against the now stony path, and we round the bend. One last time I glance up and watch the fight behind us. I wish I could join them in the fray, but that is not our fight. _You know it. He is a neither a wolf, nor a hairy man._

A jerking motion draws me back forward. Again we round a bend, but do not slow. After a long turn we break on to a normal straight path. Pebbles bounce across the thick path. Blurred patches whip past the sides of my head as we barrel down this path.

Unexpectedly my body shoots forward. The horse stumbles slightly. Without hesitation I wrap my arms around the figure in front of me and wait for the rocking to stop. Fortunately, the beast did not trip, and we continue on.

"You ok back there, Hope?" Sweet words sweep back to me, "You startled me a second ago."

I draw in air and focus myself before replying, "I am alright. The horse gave me a quite a jolt, though."

She chuckles, but keeps herself firm. Red strands dance across the top of my head and tickle the front of my face. My hands rests rest around what I am guessing is her stomach. All the cloth of her robe really does make her seem a lot bigger than she really is. _You better keep that in your head. He will not speak that!_

Fingers entangle fingers while palms press harder against the clothed stomach as we find another bend. The force pulls greatly on my side, but I am able to keep myself balanced. Well, actually, she is able to keep us both balanced. _You know it is all her. He is just baggage._

"Are you two still alive back there?" The rider ahead of us calls back.

"We are doing great!" The woman beats me to the punch.

My mouth opens, but my eyes break their will to speak. Oddly my vision darts to the tops of cliffs. A blackened figure rests by a tall tree. I know something is there, but I cannot make out what it is. Is it a hound? Is it human? Is it a bear? _You went backwards there. He sure did._

We round a short bend, and I look back down. Hooves slap against wet stones as we pass a small stream. I quickly glance back to the trees but there is nothing there. Maybe I was just seeing things. _You were. He is nuts, remember?_

As I look back, a high-pitched roar cracks the air. I spin back forward and look around confusedly. The narrow, tall walls do not allow for much sight here, and I cannot make out anything that could have produced that.

My head twists side to side, and is given reprieve as the walls suddenly shorten. A river trickles just ahead. This one is much bigger than the last. A large felled tree makes for a perfect pass over the flowing waterway.

Movement from the other side of the river catches my eye. Another strange figure appears on the slope of the hill. Rocks give it great cover, but my trained eyes do not fall for such pathetic camouflage. _You were trained by the best. He had Nathanos lessons!_

A small red flare appears at the location of the figure. It rests near the top of blob. Orange sparks radiate from the orders of the red core? What in the world is that?

We near the wooden bridge, but my attention stays focused on the figure. I almost have my finger on what that…NO!

"Watch out!" My voice breaks in a nervous frenzy.

As if on cue the red light ripples from the figure. Yellow, orange, and white colors drag behind the core producing a long, illuminated tail. All of it quickly arches down, passes the tops of trees, and slams into the bridge ahead.

BRURSH

A fiery explosion spreads across all sections of the tree. Flame fingers flick high from the base of the structure. Bug crackle and pop loudly as the fire consumes them. Our horses screech loudly, but do not slow their pace.

"Turn, quickly! We are going to have to jump it!" Robes rustle at the sides of the leading rider.

He quickly jerks onto the now flat wall to our left. Hooves pound against firm soil. Grass folds and bends with ease. The river flows down just ahead. Rocks jut from the curved path and give no sympathy to my raging heart.

In a flash we near the river. Adrenaline pumps. Veins bulge with pressure. Muscles tighten. Hands grip the waist of the slender figure.

My mouth opens and my eyes close as I shout wildly into the air.

A hear the cracking of ground and trembling of hooves. Dirt smacks against the sides of my legs. Wind whips the side of my face. Air drags back my clothing. A heavy force pulls down at my body.

I cannot open my eyes!

A sudden jerk clutches my lower body and the firm feel of ground fades. I do not have to open my eyes to know we are jumping. I do not have to break the seal to know we are floating at this very moment. I do not have to see!

It feels as if an eternity passes.

I cannot open my eyes!

All reality seems to slow.

I must open them!

Force drags back down.

THUD-THUD

My body rocks in its place. Muscles lock in my arms to hold myself firmly up. The horse below jerks side to side. The world quakes. Everything is shaking. Eyelids hold firm.

Then nothing…

Cowardly folds of flesh peal back, and I take in the surroundings. Slowly the baffled beast trots forward. The young woman slaps its shoulders. I rock back with quiet excitement. We made it! _You bet you did! He…_

_BRURSH_

Dirt plows upwards. Waves of clumpy mess smack my face and body. The explosion barely missed us. Gathering speed, we dart past the crater and around the slope of the hill.

My senses slowly return to normality. Sadly, I almost wish they hadn't. Spreading the span of my vision is an unbelievable sight. Giant men lumber from the woods. Green orcs rally from the sides of finely chopped and gathered trees. Humans flock to the ruins of small buildings.

Further to my left is the vast ocean that eventually leads to the coast. A massive light tower rests broken in the air. Flames puke from the side of the structure while the edifices to its side hold for barricaded soldiers. Overhead beat the wings of drakes. These drakes, however, are pale, sickly and appear to be decaying.

Scourge…

Aboard their backs are blue giants. Like the one Nathanos defeated, ice spikes cling its horned helmet and leather armor. My eyes sweep back to the forest ahead of us, and I feel myself cringe.

Another battle…

"Why are they assaulting Venture Bay?!" Green eyes appear as the feminine figure glares at the base that I am guessing is the Bay.

I see the robes of the other rider waft as he points forward.

"The Lich King knows what is coming! He knows we are here! Look, "his arm extends outward further, "undead Vrykul armies march upon the feuding Horde and Alliance as we speak!"

Bodies of all sorts clash against each other. Giants interrupt old enemies of the southern continents. Trolls and tiny dwarves engage for control over the base. Corpses riddle the tree line and the outskirts of the base.

So many troops…

BRURSH, BRURSH, BRURSH

Rumbling roars of exploding rounds draw my attention upwards. Pockets of black dust gather in the middle of the air as sparks rain from them. _You are seeing flak. He is seeing it all right._

Confused eyes scan the ground for signs of the cannons firing. Nothing. Instinctively I look up, and…there! A zeppelin. But not any Zeppelin…

"Die you overgrown skinless chickens!" Skippy screeches from aboard his ship, "Stop moving so I can de-bone you and enjoy your savory treats, foul of flight!"

Yeah…that is Skippy.

The bulking behemoth glides for the light-tower. Cannons fire wildly from the sides, and from here I can see the first mate! Lughoof! Lugfoot? Fluffy!

I continue to watch the ship circle the battling town, but a call from ahead draws my attention, "Get down! Do not leave your head exposed! And do not do a thing!" The front rider screams as he directs his horse towards the heart of battle.

Hooves thud heavily upon the wet soil. The young girl snaps her reins. Lets do this! _You said it! He is the man!_

In a flash the first rider speeds by a pair of dueling heroes. They do not pay heed to our passing. Hasty horses glide past tower giants. Legs smash to the sides of us. This is insane! Bodies are everywhere! Broken trees fall to the ground as mechanical beasts barrel for fleshy giants!

We shoot past dozens of battling warriors. This reminds of the shores of Aszhara! This reminds of the battle over Orgrimmar! This reminds me of the Undercity!

Metal blades slam into the ground. Clumps of brown and red dirt clump into the air. Screams echo upon the broken skies.

We skid past a pack of lumbering giants. They do not see us or do not care about us. Trolls align in front of long lumber piles and raise bows.

"Ready! Aim!" One of the lanky figures sounds off, "fire!"

Arrows riddle the sky. Giants jerk violently. They continue trampling forward, but the might of the barrage ends them. A few missiles that missed riddle the ground behind us. _You know that was close. He needs new pants!_

Faster we move. More soldiers we pass. Ahead I see a heavy fog, and notice a field of white. That must be the end of the forest! It is still a distance away, but that is the end of this nightmarish field!

Not much further now. More battling troops are left in dust. Faster we move. Bigger the white field grows. Not much further at all!

A sudden, loud voice draws my attention up the hill. There, standing a top the mound is a large, rather armored figure. This giant appears to not be decaying yet, but its demeanor definitely is nonetheless terrifying.

As I look up at him, I can see him look down at me. I can see his gaze lock upon me. I can see him. And he can see me…

"Warriors!" His arm shouts up instantly, "The Light Bringer trots upon these very lands!"

The soldiers closest to him throw their sight down his arm to me. They raise their weapons and lock into an attack position.

Shifting forward, the man that called me out moves forward and shouts again, "Hope Blackwood! He is escaping!" He pauses briefly to bellow loudly and scream two unpleasant words, "Kill him!"

Footsteps rattle louder. Dirt gathers in the corners of my eyes. Dozens of figures appear. An axe whips past my back and leaves my clothing dragging behind its might. We need to stop them! _You were told to do nothing! He must stop them, though! _

Reaching forward, I grab my shovel, and then my gun. Flinging my shovel to my shoulder, I ram a bullet quickly into my gun, lift it with one arm and flip the shove to an attack position with the other.

Eat this, Scourge flith!

Flash. _TITHBURSH_

A massive explosion rips the field and a few giants asunder. The lone round collides with the skull of another. Quickly I spine the shovel back to my shoulder, use both hands to reload my gun, and make to….

"Die, light! Die, Hope!" A voice barrels from behind.

My gun lifts before I can look. It spins to the back of horse as I twist unwillingly. As the barrel aligns with the back, the face, and the axe of an enemy are mere feet away.

TITHBURSH

He stumbles…

A quick jerk sounds me flying backwards. My legs slip from the horse and my back collides with the ground. Pain surges through my, but I must get up! _You will grab your shovel to our left. He must grab the gun to the right!_

My arms sweep the ground and find both exactly as stated. You are welcome. Rolling to my side I climb to my feet and lift my shovel forward.

Heroes! A soft humming vibration builds at the front of the blade.

Flash

A giant tumbles off his feet as a round rips through him. Two more fly to the sides as the round explodes. I let the strap catch the shovel as it falls back. I reload my gun and lift it. The man is too close! I cannot get a good shot!

"Hope! I will save you!" The sweet voice radiates from my left.

Instantly a horse appears and collides with the towering giant. Both the giant and the beast break upon each other and collapse instantly. Flailing hooves mangle the body as the horse screams in agony.

The young woman bounces hard on the ground. She lands only feet from me, but a lumbering buffoon is going to beat me to her! Like hell!

TITHBURSH

Blood splatters from the side its head before falls down. I make for her, but a sudden noise draws my attention. I spin, whipping my blade in an arch. Glowing metal slices through the legs of one, two, three giants before I finish the spin.

I make to reload, but there are too many. My feet shuffle backwards while I twist in 180 arches. The blade catches the occasional enemy, but it is not enough. As I sweep the battlefield I am overwhelmed.

There are too many!

I back to the young woman and hold firm. I raise my shovel, think hard, and wait for the humming. FLASH. The bolt hurls forward, taking down half a dozen foes as it streamlines outwards.

Instantly their spots are filled. I spin, catching one, two, four enemies before spinning the other direction. There are too many! I cannot…

A sudden force sends me tumbling forward. Rocks collide with my sides. A tree slams into my side, stopping me hard. The world spins. Rumbling footsteps fill my ears. I look up. Horrifically the armored being stands over me.

Long, braided hair flops to the side of its massive torso. Bulging muscles show through openings on the leather armor. Large, blaring eyes scream to me. I can sense his hate. Like so many times before…I can feel its desire for death…

He grips his axe in his hand. The metal glints sinisterly in the unwelcoming light. Evil guides his every action. Destruction rains from his every pore. Rage fills his soul and drives it to this moment. As I look into his eyes, I can feel it.

"Today, little man, I shall please the Death-god!" He lifts the axe over his head, "Today, the light dies!"

From the corner of my eye I see a bright twinkle. It is the light I was told about when death comes. It is what I was told will greet you when all is lost. It is the finest light I have ever seen. It is…the end…

It grows brighter and brighter. The axe moves higher and higher. Closer the glow draws. Come, light. I am ready.

A deep, familiar voice shatters the land and drives into the spirit. Even the giant twists to stare at the steady moving light and the figure that it follows.

"By the light, you will not stand victorious this day!"

Flash

A long, black object whips from behind the being's back. The sparkling light clings to the tip of the object as it flies to the being's front. A beam of light tears through the ground. A growing pillar of pure energy rips apart the soil. Trees bend and whip its fury. So bright. So…beautiful.

As I watch the spectacle, I cannot help but be overwhelmed. All of it…is so perfect. The young woman crawls forward and embraces the show with me. All the glory and beauty of life barreling towards us and the giant looming overhead.

Remarkable light...

So perfect, yet all my young friend can say is one word.

Just one word…"Tirion!"


	7. Chapter 7: Of my Nightmares

_**For the most part, I am going to be posting chapters as quickly as possible. I have pretty much finished all but the last chapter of this story, but due to technical difficulties and annoying set backs it has taken way longer than anticipated. Anyway, for anyone still reading, here is the next chapter.  
**_

_**Enjoy.  
**_

Coning light radiates outward from the crashing wave of bright illumination. Wrinkled warriors clad in blue try to flee, but the curving lash tears them asunder. Decaying flesh turns to ash, rotting bones crumble, and once raging eyes calm to a peaceful departure.

The armored giant that looms over me has just enough time to twist and absorb his final moments with little anticipation. A mighty explosion tears into the soil sending his body tumbling away.

Light pours over me. My eyes squint and narrow in attempts to hold back the waving wall of pure light. The world seems to be engulfed by the illumination. The world seems to fade to nothingness by this brightness.

And in the heart, in the very center of the gleaming light, approaches a figure. A heavy black outline builds to the unbelievable glint of his golden armor. Massive hulking plates arch over his confident shoulders. This same armor covers almost every inch of the man besides his head.

White hair clings to the top of his forehead. A heavy beard hangs from his chin and upper lip. Wrinkles line the face showing years of wear and seasons of stress. A white piece of cloth hangs down his chest and covers up the beautiful gold. A black, spiky circle rests in the center of this strange cloth. _You are looking at a tabard. He sees the grandest of tabards…_

A voice of the gods rains from his throat, spilling its deep, confident call for us unworthy to hear, "To your feet, Hope Blackwood. To your feet."

Gold gleams as a large armored hand extends for me. Fingers held steady and wait patiently for my proper response. Without hesitating I reach up and wrap my hand around his. A mighty tug swiftly jerks me to my feet.

I remember this face….

He shifts around me and aids the groaning Jessica to her feet. He flings her over his shoulder and stabilizes her. Once they are both in the proper position, the old man smiles at me.

"Do forgive the secrecy, young man, I simply wanted to avoid any unnecessary uproars."

I raise an eyebrow as he passes by me, "What do you mean?"

He begins marching forward. His head tilts slightly to the side, and I instantly know that face. I have definitely seen it before and very recently. He…

"Obviously, young sir, I was the other rider that accompanied you. I figure you already deciphered that. Simply stating I apologize for not telling you my true identity."

He moves quickly and I rush after him. In a matter seconds I pull to his side and scratch my head.

"Not to seem rude, but…" I shrug at him, "Who are you?"

The old man slows a bit as he stares at me awkwardly. For a brief fleeting moment he comes to a stop before rushing along side me again.

"Sorry, it would seem I threw all manners out when introducing myself." His hand attempts to reach for me, but his current position detains him, "Well, anyway, my name is Tirion Fordring, and I lead the Argent Crusade I spoke of earlier."

Jessica groans, "Lord, that wasn't much of an introduction for a man of your stature…"

He shrugs, "Humility seems to have overcome me, my dear. All bragging rights are lost in the moment."

The man…Tirion…continues forward quickly even with the young girl. My legs work feverishly to simply keep up with the rushing man. It seems impossible that he is moving at this speed.

"Fordring…how…how didn't I know it was you?" Jessica softly speaks as we shift towards the outer edges of the forest.

"Master of disguise, my lady. Master of disguise." Words stammer as panting breaks his normal steady flow.

Faster and faster we seem to move. A dark haze begins to build ahead. The forest slowly comes to an end as the ground begins fading back to a green and white mesh upon the floor. After a few, long steps the green completely fades to the white powder.

Crunching feet ring loudly. Shuffling boots drag pockets of packed snow forward. Ahead I see a steep incline that leads to a rather calm river. As we approach this said path I can make out another felled tree that perfectly crosses the water and gives us the access we need.

Trees thin in numbers as we near the steep bank. Snow becomes harder and slicker. Ice forms quickly and dangerously. Trickling water spews delicate sounds as it shifts through icy passes.

Tirion aligns himself and the young woman with the fallen tree. He repositions Jessica in front of him, and with a gentle grip of her waist he guides her forward. Her feet smack the slimy slides, and she stumbles.

With a firm tug he keeps the woman from falling, and he takes to the slick surface. His heavy metal boots scrape mercilessly against the aging carcass. Small decaying branches snap at the sides of the tree as well as from behind.

Rustling leaves rumble a rather oddly overwhelming torrent of sounds, forcing my mind to race and my eyes to wander. Regretfully I turn from the two traversing the natural bridge, and shift back the path we came.

Blue figures rush past lively trees, brush past dwarfed shrubs, and crush snow with monstrous feet. Dozens sprint full speed as once before. Light reflects and guides my eyes to massive, metallic axes. The blades sweep the owner's sides smoothly and aim fiercely at the ones before them.

They are coming…and doing so fast.

Jessica and Tirion break from the tree and thud heavily on the opposite shore. I quickly draw my shovel to the ready and aim it back at the unyielding fools. Light sparks from runes, and hums burn from bright energy.

Flash.

An explosion rips through the ones leading. Their mighty stature is torn asunder by the flashing orb of bright destruction. But more fill their lost place, they refuel their once lost pace.

"Move it, Hope!" Jessica screams, "There are too many!"

Without hesitating I flip my shovel down, turn, and stumble idiotically onto the sickeningly frictionless surface. Arms shoot to the side instinctively as I attempt to regain complete balance. Swaying motion overwhelms my body, but finally, after what feels like an eternity of rocking, I find my footing and dash forward.

Bark scraps from my soles as I hurriedly scamper onward. Tiny twigs tear from the sickly flesh. As quickly as I clumsily climbed onto this rotting stink boat, I leap off, slamming on the crisp, crushed snow.

Jessica and Tirion continue forward. I make after them, but a thought crosses my mind. _You better not start thinking. He need more running, and less kindling of brain!_ Again I bring my spade to the ready. Light. Hum. Flash.

_BRURSH._

Chunks of rotted wood shoots in all directions. The center of the bridge ceases to exist, drawing the outer edges inward. Both sides grip the snowy banks for only second longer before folding into the trudging slush.

With a triumphant nod I spin from the destroyed path, rushing towards the two a great distance ahead now. I sprint feverishly after them. Snow clings to my feet, slowing me slightly with every step.

Second by second I near the two. After a good long minute of annoyingly speedy and exhausting movement I come up behind them. That man moves far too quickly. _You said it. He needs to take whatever he is taking_

"Tirion!" I take a breath, "How do you move…

WHOOSH

A torrent of air drags my hair forward_. _Blurred gray, black, and brown mesh together as a spiraling disc of density and of destruction. Slivers of bark slap my face. Feet come to an exact stop. My head darts to see a handle of an axe hanging from a large tree ahead of me.

Instantly I spin back. The giants continue onwards. They leap across the river with ease, digging up snow as they jump and land. How in the world? I destroyed that tree for no reason! _You are gonna get it by DEHTA! He hates nature!_

"Well, these little buggers are rather persistent," Tirion's voice seems to be traveling, "Keep moving!"

Without hesitating I once again find myself running after the insanely speedy old man. I dodge rocks, broken stumps and the occasionally unnerving pile of bones. These same piles connect to rather massive skeletons that give home to giant, ominous birds. Squawks radiate from the decaying beaks and rattle their rotting bodies. Carrions.

You need to focus! He needs to duck!

My head drags down as I dodge a low branch. I make to upright myself, but a sudden, rush of wind ripples past my ears. Eyes drag upward just in time to watch the swirling blade speed straight towards the front two.

I make to yell, but Tirion skillfully drags both to the side. Sadly, does this with lacking haste. Red spurts from the young woman's shoulder. A high-pitched, short, agonizing yelp bursts from her mouth.

She grabs the wound, and Tirion speaks to her. After a second they continue onward. I continue to them, watching their every move. Jessica seems to slow readily, almost to the point where her feet drag against the snow.

Tirion swiftly pulls the two to a large, bulky tree and lays her against the trunk. I hurriedly rush to their side, take in the advancing pack, and focus back on them. We have some time. _You have seconds. He has maybe a minute._

Jessica grips the red and oddly green seeping wound. The edges of the torn flesh are a sickly black color. Tendrils built of gray and dark green stretch out from the black edges and under her clothing. That isn't good…

Jessica winces in pain as Tirion draws his hands to it. She coughs and her face slowly begins fading to an unhealthy pale color. Her lips crack while purple slowly replaces the once healthy red.

Tirion sighs as Jessica writhes, "Poison. Unbelievable! How do massive, Neanderthal like men learn such a fine art? And manage to slop it on axes?!"

He shakes his head and cups his hands around the wound.

"Sorry, my dear, but this is going to feel rather unpleasant." A light glow radiates from his hands, "Been some time since I healed a wound. Going to need some time."

His eyes divert to me, and I know what must be done. _You get to use your boomstick again. He gets to use the one with a bigger kick!_

Smoothly I glide my shovel to my side, giving myself proper room to jerk my gun from my side. The middle of the weapon falls into my hand. With a quick readjustment of the gun I grab the handle, and with my shovel hand I grab a handful of bullets.

Quickly I load the cannon and pull both weapons to my sides. My shoulder leans against the cold, icy bark. Pressure builds on the outer edges of my flesh and on the inner walls of my veins. Adrenaline pumps. Mind races. Focus.

Light.

I spin from behind the tree.

Hum.

I lift my gun forward.

_TITHBURSH._

Blood splatters from a nearby enemy. His body slams to the ground.

Shovel drags up and to the side.

Flash.

Dirt tears from the ground. Snow builds a barrier of solid powder. Enemies collapse from the explosion. Both weapons are pulled back inward where I reload. The gun rises again.

A giant lurches back. Axe at the ready. Too slow.

_TITHBURSH._

His body jerks and goes limp. A pile of blue, lifeless mess is all that remains. I take a step forward, snow dragging behind my sole. Flash. More pockets of torn earth shoots upward. Enemies slam to their final resting place.

More come.

Another step forward, weapons inwards. Reload. One, two, three giants rush headlong towards me. Axes lift over their heads. Another step. Weapons both pull upwards. Metal sight locks forward. Spade glowing and humming. Axes fling forward.

_TITHBRUSH._

Air drags past the side of my head. Flash. Bodies are vaporized. I pull downwards. Torrents of force break a once calm air above me. I strafe to the side and make to pull my weapons inwards. My feet stumble and drag backwards as another axe whirls past.

More and more enemies advance. I pull upright. Weapons back at the ready. Eyes locked forward. It is then I notice the figure in the corner of my vision. Readjusting feet make to counter the beast. Weapons drag with my body.

A massive, gray axe looms overhead. Brown skin is covered by thick, gray armor. Leather clings to the vast of his body. Scars and red patches rest upon his body as signs of a recent fight. In a flash the blade lowers.

_CLING._

Bladed death lays locked with my two items. Rages courses through the blade and flows from his eyes. Sparks rain from my gun and shovel. Neither of us will break. Neither blade will crack. Unfortunately, the locked weapons give my rather muscular foe an advantage.

The moment almost seems to blur as I lift upwards. Both of my weapons break from his axe as I fly backwards. Air rushes all around me, force pulls back at my body. All of it a long, drawn blur.

Thud.

Pain surges through my back. Legs feel weak. Arms grow heavy. Get up, Hope! Get up! Slowly I drag my elbows back and draw my body upwards. Again I find myself below the towering giant.

Dreadlocks break at his torn shoulders. Blood spills from parts of his body. An axe rests overhead. Anger spews from his eyes. Smirked spills vomit sighs of revenge. He positions himself and grips his axe.

"You will not escape me twice…"

As his words finish escaping his mouth, a strange rumbling echoes from a short distance away. I swear I have heard that before. Sadly, the voice from above calls my attention back…

"Today…the light…dies!"

Axe drags upwards. Rumbling grows louder. Rage ahead. Sound grows louder. Axe locked at the ready. Louder… It almost sounds like a propeller…

_BRURSH, BRURSH, BRURSH._

Massive firewalls burn from behind. Both the giant's and my attention divert back. Towering pillars of destruction rain up into the sky. Blackened flames consume dozens of attacking undead giants, while scorching flames vaporize their already decaying carcasses.

Air ripples from the mighty wall of flame and terror. Snow washes over the giant and surrounds my being. All vision is blurred. All is lost in the explosions. All is lost in the void of chaos. All is blocked but the floating wooden platform overhead.

A tiny green man jumps back and forth at the wheel, while a furry individual mans a large, gray cannon.

"Pinky!" The captain, ship, and crew barrels past, "You draw far too much attention to yourself!" He chuckles, "That is my job, Pinky!"

Skippy…you are unbelievable…

Brown fills the entire sight above me. Dust falls from the creaking wood. Giant metal propellers draw disturbed powder and shoot disturbed air. As the entire ship passes by, a strange, black figure leaps from the side of the ship.

"I will not be denied!" My eyes draw back to the almost forgotten death before me, "This is my victory! The Death-God shall reward me!"

Light glints from the finely crafted blade. Rage flares from his gnarled teeth. Hate flows through his assaulting arms.

TWANG, TWANG, TWANG

My giant jerks violently. Dull thuds ripple from his back. Tiny, red spikes jut from his chest. Groans roll from his mouth. His own fluids muffle his screams. Arms lose all hate as they glide to his side.

All rage is lost as he falls to his knees, teeth separating. Light glints weakly from his eyes as he falls to his side. Pale envelops his body, as gray fills his sight. Pupils turn black as death itself. Body goes limp.

Directly ahead and behind where he stood is now a hooded figure. It moves quickly across the snow and flows ominously with the flickering flames that rest behind it. Black boots quickly trample the snow and rise up the long, sleek legs.

Smooth, gray skin is exposed at the midriff and fades under the short shirt on her chest. Strong shoulders lock with arms that lead to a bow in one and a dagger in the other. A hood hangs closely to the head. Yellow and gray strands dance across the top of her chest and cling to the sides of a delicate, smooth face.

Blackness shrouds the vast majority of its face, but the identity cannot be hid. Beneath the shroud, and beneath the darkness, one feature tells no lies. Red eyes.

Sylvanas….

Armies of undead flee from the billowing wall of destruction, but she continues to me, reaches down, and grabs my arm. With a swift, violent tug, I am thrown to my feet and left standing in a state of bewilderment. Angry rubies lock with mine briefly. Her mouth makes to mouth, a strange flicker in her eyes, and strange cooling of my arm silences her.

Warm fades from my wrist where her shaking hand rests. My eyes break briefly from hers and lock with her hand. Fingers and fist are wholly absorbed by a weak glow. Gray skin glows and turn to a light pink mesh. With each passing second my flesh cools and freezes as she glows and burns with warmth.

I turn back to her. A smile stretches my face as her lips quiver gently. Red eyes calm and flesh sparkles with life. It is as if death itself is filled with a life she once bore. It is as death itself is replaced by a time she so longs for…

Her eyes lock with mine. I can feel her body quake, and for a brief, fleeting moment, she lets her guard down. The second time we have locked this way. And like the first, is not a moment I will soon forget…

Disappointingly Skippy shouts from a short distance away, "Delivery for Pinky and angry woman!"

Instantly the warmth flows through her arm as she throws mine from hers. Rage quickly returns as she focuses on something behind me. She glares at me angrily and crushes all thoughts of me.

"Lady Windrunner!" Tirion shuffles into my sight, "Your tardiness is absurd!"

She frowns and turns to him. I look as well, letting the now self-standing Jessica and confident Tirion. The young woman still appears weak, but at the same time seems stronger than ever. _You are so confusing. He is something._

Sylvanas brushes past me and speaks as she moves, "Fordring, do forgive me, but I was busy taking care of your special order."

I turn and watch her hurry towards an awkwardly positioned crate. It almost seems like it was dropped here. _You know it was, you ninny. He knows Skippy dropped it!_

My feet shuffle after hers, but my mind locks back to Tirion.

"Tirion, why was Sylvanas late?" My mind wanders, "No, no, why do you want a package?" I pause, "Wait…"

I spin and shout to Sylvanas, "Why are you even here?"

She turns her head and raises an eyebrow,

"Child, you lack focus like a fish I once owned…" she pauses as if a stroke of brilliance hits her, "Goldfish, which is your new name, I am here for the Trial this man so urgently needed me for."

She notices towards Tirion as she comes to the crate, "And he made me bring you this. Why, I don't know, but it is for you, Goldfish."

With a swift kick the crate breaks apart, revealing a set of armor placed firmly on it. I cannot help but hurry to it. It appears to be a heavy suit with gray edges. The outer mesh changes to white as it moves to the middle. A black, spiky circle rests in the center of the chest plate.

The same two symbols are constructed on the bottom edges of the shoulder pads, near the armpits. The spikes jut from the bottom of the pads and form a perfect flow to the chest. Argent Armor. _You are good. He tries._

"Lady, help the young lad get it on, will you?" Tirion rushes and grabs the chest piece with his hands.

With a shift jerk her pulls it from the rack and as I approach him he lifts it up. It takes him no time at all to slap it to my chest and strap on the back. Before I can even move, the groaning Sylvanas drops the shoulder pads heavily upon my shoulders.

A surge of pain rushes through my body, and I look at her with mouth ajar. She shrugs and grumbles, "There, he is set."

"All but for one piece."

His arm rises and directs me towards the helm. I almost feel lost in the object as I rush to it. I have never had a helmet of my own. My commander in the Plaguelands told me I'd blow it out with my over worked pressure cooker that is my mind. After that I never came across one that a Scourge hadn't worn…

"Fordring, may I ask," Jessica chirps as I wrap my fingers around the metal helmet. "But why did you have an armored suit ordered to the middle of nowhere?"

I lift it over my head and Tirion chuckles, "Wasn't planned to be dropped here, but we needed to get our lad here a suit deserving of his stature. Just so happened this is where both delivering and receiving parties met."

"Stature? He should be wearing a loincloth with that logic." Sylvanas grunts as the metal slides over my helmet.

My vision is greatly narrowed by the finely gripping piece of metal. Folds of plate move to my mouth and stop at the edges of my nose. Slits allow for both my eyes to see forward, but not much more than that.

I breath and glance the only direction the helmet allows. Ahead a mountain towers into the sky. Gray clouds wrap around the peaks. Brown juts from the wall of white the clings to the sloping walls. Black rock slowly becomes the norm as my eyes shift down the massive structure.

A firm slap hits my shoulder, "How do you like your armor, Argent Champion?" Tirion gives me a shake, but my mind is locked.

I ignore him completely. Adrenaline pumps through my pressurized veins. Muscles grow tense. Drums rattle my bony cage. Fingers lock. Clouds of cold drift from my mouth as my lungs heaves air in and out.

A small town rests nestled in the base of the cliff. Tall dark gray walls are lined with spiraling loops of spiky metal. Green structures mix with brown buildings. Rustling figures scurry on the outskirts of the location. I know this town…

My mouth opens, "Where is this?"

Sylvanas grunts as she walks by, "This is Venomspite. Where we are to meet the overzealous Nathanos and the rest of your lack luster companions." She grunts and steps forward, "Would seem that the Scourge beat us here!"

My throat clenches as I speak, "Nathanos…is…here?"

She turns to me as she moves, "That is what I said, Goldfish. But that, obviously, is no longer of concern." She points forward, "Looks like we are going to enjoy another marvelous Scourge encounter…"

Legs grow weak and thoughts burn my mind. This town is locked beneath a mountain of sloping brown and powdery white. Buildings of familiarity litter the ground. I swallow hard and take a breath.

It is the town of my stirring, sleepless nights.

Of my nightmares…


	8. Chapter 8: Consumed by Darkness

Sweat beads at the top of my forehead. Metallic armor clings fiercely to the clammy flesh, drawing the salty mess to a pool above my brow. Clouds burn in and out of my mouth. Eyes focus squarely upon the city and the movement within.

Figures rustle outside the walls. Arrows shoot into sight as they arch up and over. Weak flashes of magic and gunfire fill the inner borders. Nothing can be heard from here, but the eyes tell all the tale needed.

Sylvanas rustles into sight and grumbles to herself.

"Unbelievable! These filthy Scourge gnats are everywhere!" She quickly marches forward.

"My lady, you must calm your rage." Tirion shuffles after her, "Your soldiers will hold the town."

"My soldiers will do more than hold it!" Her feet carry her faster, "They will kill the bugs, dig their graves with their bones, and bury them in coffins crafted of their own flesh!"

That was a rather interesting way of putting it. _You liked the idea of burying them. He just never thought of using bones as shovels and skin as coffins. You never improvised before._

Sylvanas gains speed, and I cannot help but attempt to keep up with her. Snow pats and crunches beneath her light legs. Crisp snaps echo from my sides as the heavily platted Tirion and Jessica easily keep my pace. Sadly, none of us can even begin to gain on the incredibly speedy woman. Even as she navigates around stumps and broken animals, she does not lose speed. My legs move to breaking, but it does nothing.

With each passing second the sounds of war rattle for us. Cries of fighting soldiers fill the air. Screams of the wounded and of the falling creep eerily upon our minds. Visages of battle grow stronger as signs of the town intensify. Cracks appear on the walls while broken wire hangs limply from the stone.

Ahead a path appears and breaks four ways, one heading east, another other west, one heads south parallel to us, and one slopes into town.. In a matter of seconds we trample the forked trail and follow after the already climbing Sylvanas.

She comes to a stop a top the small cliff and glares angrily into town. Sounds of battle become clear as a Durotar day. Living warriors scream and shout orders. Undead creeps gargle orders and howlersinister plots.

It takes us no time at all to ascend the rather steep path and come to the aging, Forsaken walls. Large chunks of stone gather at the base of the walls as cracks run lines around spots that once held them.

Sylvanas watches us approach the break in the wall before dashing angrily forward. We follow her quickly, but I hesitate briefly. Breath, Hope, breath. The Lich King is not going to be here. _You can smash him with your shovel if he is! He can shovel him good!_

Tirion shifts past me, throwing me an odd look before entering the city. Jessica stops at my side and pats my shoulder. Her eyes lock with mine, soothing me silently. Gentle thoughts tickle my cheeks, fading from sight with the young woman. She glides out of sight, and at that I am all but forced to enter.

Go, Hope, go.

The sight is almost that of my nightmare. Broken bodies litter the street. Scourge skeletons lay broken at the far end of the outpost while a few Forsaken and human bodies lay lifeless near us. Scourge troops march into the town, invading with numerous strength. Defenders retaliate with barrages of ranged fire.

On defender in particular draws my attention...

An angry, arrow-barraging figure wearing a green hood rests in a doorway below a crocked sign with the word "Inn" etched into it. This figure, Nathanos, releases death with a simple stroke of a finger. On the opposite side of the street, near a massive vessel of glass and green fluid, is an old man with a shield.

Carlin.

He turns to me and throws me a nod as I come around the wall. Swiftly I dash through the empty field of vulnerability and come to rest near a pile of ruin resting near Nathanos. Sylvanas rushes to Carlin as Tirion leaps over the ruin to my side. Seems rather reversed, but who am I to speak. _You are a nobody! He needs to shoot something!_

I lift my shovel forward and lay it on the fence. Skeletons march forward and the troops around brace for the attack. My eyes lock and my thoughts focus. Light, hum, flash.

A spiraling ball whooshes past the center of the town and crashes into the advancing army. The troops scatter and make to regroup. They will not have the luxury of gathering! I leap over the fence and fire another round.

Like pins to a bowling ball the creatures are plowed down to the spiraling orb. The final explosion rips apart the army and sends them scurrying. My eyes lock again. The shovel hums, but what follows does not come from the end of my blade.

"Light Bringer, the Lich King shall welcome you to his fold!" Rattling across the skies is a deep, bellowing voice.

A dark flash absorbs the light briefly. My eyes divert to the side. A rune blade lifts towards the skies and expels a weak green flame from all its angles. At the very tip emerges a pair of dark eyes and sphere of black energy. Bursting forth is a diabolic array of swirling dark magic. A skull crafted of the reaper's design ejects from the blade, aimed squarely on the foolish figure basking in the field of war.

The orb barrels from the weapon and glides sinisterly across the air. Teeth built of dark matter align in the center of the demonic skull. Green eyes lock above a visible nose. All features direct towards me. All move at a speed driven by the unholy. All scream for my death.

It moves rapidly. My legs shift. It barrels closer. Darkness fills my vision. _You must move! He cannot stand here!_ I cannot. It is too fast. _You have to move the weapon! He has it_! It is too late. My eyelids make to close, but shock keeps them ajar.

"Worm!" Nathanos darts into my vision, "You idiot! Exposing yourself!"

A dark explosion radiates before me. Black engulfs a small figure. Green bursts upwards. Black explodes in all directions. A man is thrown to his as wood splinters all around him.

In horror I watch as him float through the air like a rag doll. He hangs upon the sky for only second before thudding upon the road. He comes to a rest in the exact center of town. He comes to rest only yards to me. He comes to a rest, the man with the tattered and torn green hood.

Nathanos…

My body quakes. Legs move forward. Screams radiate from my sides. Ears are unhearing and blocked by ignorance. Eyes locked upon the man on the road. What have I done? _You must get some cover! He is a sitting duck out here!_

A strange burning feeling, unfelt before, churns in my stomach.

Closer I draw. Eyes haze as tears build. Nathanos, get up! Stop acting, I know you are only acting! Get up! _You…cannot force him this time. He knows it is ok. _Heat gathers in my chest and spreads rapidly.

The new feeling intensifies.

Closer I come to Nathanos.

Vision blurs.

My feet near his unmoving body. Get up!

Tears break the dam of my will power.

Get up, please!

Tears flow. Muscles grow lax as sorrow sets in. Eyes of denial sweep the body. I look away. Tirion stares at me. His mouth stands open. He knows what I did. He knows what I caused. Tears flow rapidly. What have I done?! _You need to relax. He did not do it!_

An explosion of uncontrollable energy ripples from my gullet. The sadness empties my body as the raw, pure energy traverses my veins. It fills my body and spirals within the muscle in my chest.

Lips curl upwards, diverting tears.

"Light Bringer, you received only a taste of what I have to give!"

My vision diverts to the Death knight. Long white hair flows at the edges of his face. Familiar facial features line every inch of his flesh. Gray eyes, once brown and full of life now radiate darkness towards my raging soul.

"I, Jon Dawnbreaker, Herald of the Lich, shall depart to you the wisdom of my master!"

My soul quells as a pinch snaps my heart. His words assault my mind. They attack my body. Jon…a friend and brother of the light now stands before me, embracing the armor of the fallen. How can he?!

Energy crashes across my veins.

How can he do is!?

Mark shifts from behind Carlin, but the old man stops him. Jessica shifts forward, gripping the furiously struggling giant. Carlin throws Jessica an expression of concern and bewilderment. Jessica clutches the enraged ally, rage pouring from her facial feature only to be quelled by the glance of the old man. Both look at each other almost as if they have seen ghosts...

But the real specter does not rest within them. No, it relays from a man, a villain, a monster...a family of a friend. A brother of Mark.

His brother! Mark's brother betrayed us all! _You must relax. He has to calm…_

Shut up! He did this! He killed Nathanos! He attacked the town!

I know what fills my veins. I know what fuels my current determination. I know…its anger! It rage! Blue flames flicker the edges of my vision. Black borders haze my vision.

As I stand here, sinister flames bellowing from my eyes, rage guiding me, that the nightmare was a lie…

"Hope Blackwood, Light Bringer!" Jon drags his sword to his front and screams, "Obey the call of the Lich King, return…"

Lips break at their seams. A dark, unnatural voice ripples from my throat, "If your pathetic master wishes to have me…

I pause.

"Then come and get me."

A smirk forms over his face, "As you wish, Light Bringer!"

Snow crackles beneath his feet. Sword locks in his hand. Pebbles shift as he lurches forward. My eyes lock with him. It is just as my dream. A figure charges a man amongst a field of bodies. Rage flows through his every vein. He comes for the man that brings destruction to his people.

He takes the place of what I see in my nightmare. He takes my stance of mindless assaulting and foolish charges. He…is the vision I always saw in my nightmare, my very nightmare.

And here I stand, in the center of the town. A shovel lifting black flames into the air. Green sparks building from sinister runes at the tip. Here I stand, not the man I thought I was…

Here I stand, a metaphor of my own horrors.

Here I stand…as the evil…

Here I stand…as the Lich King…

My voice radiates sinisterly upon all hearing ears, "Die, Jon Chapel, DIE!"

Burst of black flame spirals outwards. A coil of death shoots out from my cannon of once righteous fury. All that stand before me shall perish! _You must not do this! He cannot fix what has happened this way!_

The dark matter hurls towards the unsuspecting foe. His eyes lock downward as fear sweeps his pathetic demeanor. He makes to move, but I do not fail. Die, you insolent whelp, die!

Dark armor breaks from his shoulder as the round sends him flying. The blade falls from his hands as he spirals upwards. Wood rains from the corner of the roof that he slams into and flips clear over. A dull thud follows seconds later as he lands out of sight and out of mind.

Vision diverts to the side. Rage guides me perfectly. Six pairs of green embers build on the tip of my shovel. No army shall stand before me. NONE.

Bursts of black ripple from my blade. Three spheres shift simultaneously at different angles. Ground churns and wails. Massive pillars of smoke tower into the sky. The army before me is engulfed with rage and fury. White bones and bleached by the rolling black wave of destruction. All shall perish!

Movement stirs to the side. Embers spark on my blade. A building stands before me. Enemies dare hide from me? Dare to hide in the foreboding shadows! Fools!

Bursts rip forward and plow mercilessly into the building. Black flames turn to orange and red. Explosions shake the building to its core. More figures shift to my right! _You are seeing things! He must calm down!_

Green, spark, burst!

Flames of orange and yellow tear the sides of the splintering Inn. The sign cracks from over head and slams into the snow. Powder drifts from the impact spot and moves to a pair of golden, glinting boots.

My shovel shifts towards it. A man clad in solid armor stands before me. He dares mock me! He shall be punished for his insolence! Does he not know who I am?! _You will not do this! He cannot!_

Embers build on my blade. Eyes of a bewildered foe widen. Scourge scum, feel my wrath! Black forms and morphs to a sphere of death. Scourge in paladin's armor, die!

TWANG, CLING

My arm shifts with a great force. An explosion tears the soil before me. I missed my target. I look to my arm. An arrow sticks weakly from my shovel. Who dares defy me?!

My vision shifts and a tall woman bears a bow.

"Goldfish, you have gone mad!" The string is drawn back. Strangely, a look of excitement crafting upon her face, "I have waited a long time to do this!"

TWANG, TWANG

My weapon shifts to the side. _CLING._ It diverts back in the other direction. _CLING._ Both arrows bounce harmlessly from the shaft of my shovel. She folds the weapon behind her back and pulls daggers to her front.

"Fine, I shall cleave you where you stand and watch the life fade from your eyes!"

She takes to her feet. Dusty white trails whip from her soles. Unnatural speed draws her to me. Beautiful features attract her to my formidable presence. Great strength brings her to me.

What a shame she is too slow. My arm whips back as she moves. The face of my blade flips back and rises before she can dare blink. It lifts to her level and catches her acceleration as her weakness.

CLANG

Strands of long, graceful hair flip back with her head. Metal vibrates in my one hand as the other whips down across my chest. Alluring legs lift from the ground as her body drags counter clockwise.

Fingers built of pure perfection extend outwards. They wrap gently across the smooth, chilling flesh. Death seeps from flesh and flows into her veins as I tug to my side. In a flash I sweep my body and pull her awkwardly past my front.

Limbs follow my arms with such obedience. Hair fights the flow of the natural order, and eyes rest shut to wait for the inevitable. With a complete arch I watch as she aligns masterful with my arm. The building comes into sight and comes into perfect position.

I almost do not want to let go of this gorgeous flesh. I almost do not want to let this elegant hourglass creature free. I almost want to pull her to me, comfort her from the fright she must be feeling. As her eyes open, spewing magnificent red from the pupils, I almost want to hold her.

Almost…

Her body shoots with the perfect order. My fingers unwrap from the smooth flesh and let her soar gracefully. Her eyes lock with mine for a brief second as she shoots back towards the Inn.

My face contorts to a smirk as hers jerks to confusion. As she moves I let my lips separate and mouth the word, "Bye."

Glass shatters. Crisscrossing wooden planks fold inward. Slivers of both rain from the window and fall to the ground as the woman fades from sight. What a shame, she was so marvelous to look at.

A sudden burst of light fills the bottom corner of my vision and my shovel lifts instinctively. My shovel builds a wall of black as a shield as the wave of light crashes against it. Corners of my barrier fade and shatter. I hold firm, but another flash flares and my wall cracks again.

"Hope, do not let the rage overwhelm!" The golden fool shouts to me, "Control yourself, do not succumb to the darkness!"

Another flash lashes against me. There is no way I will defeat this fool from here. I must get closer. The light fades briefly. With it my feet shuffle, and I leap forward. The man arches his weapon and waits oddly.

Fool! Embers build at my weapon as a barrel forward. A burst of black barrels outwards. Die, fool, die! He skillfully sweeps down and swats my assault as he would a fly. Fine, if he wishes to die to my blade, so be it!

My shovel lifts over my head and whips downward. _CLANG_. Sparks of black fly from my weapon, clouding all vision. Pulses of light barrel from his wrapped blade, blind my vision.

He holds firmly, but he will not last!

"Hope, fight this! I know you are better than this!" His voice batters against my mind.

Suddenly he shifts and bends beneath me. The fool speaks instead of fighting! It will be his downfall! I feel him lower and fall to his knees. Yes, yes, bow to your master! Bow to the one true god! _You speak foolishness! He is no such thing_

"Hope, do you know how we met? Do you remember the day?"

We met today, what does he babble about!? I feel him grow weaker. He just tries to distract me.

"It was upon the lands of the Western Plaguelands. I do not believe you knew where you were…" he winces in pain as I exert my rage, "You seemed rather baffled when I told you."

Shut your mouth, old man!

"But you didn't hesitate to aid me, you didn't pause for a moment when I asked for your help." Further to your knees, paladin! "It was as if you could fail my pain. Feel my agony."

Stop with the story, it is a waste of your energy!

"It is not every day a man has to ask for such aid. It is not every day one wants to bear such a burden."

He lets go of the weapon with one hand reaches down. He is trying to trick me! Or he wishes to die!

"But you took the weight of the world with me. You took the pain upon your shoulders just as I."

Tirion, what do you speak about?! My eyes lock with his. A gentle light radiates from his presence. My sight is broken as he pulls a small, gray object from his suit.

"It is not every day I have to take a toy from a child. Remove the most cherished possession from a mere boy." Tears gather at his eyes, and strangely at mine, "This object belonged to Taelan Fordring, my son."

He pauses as he fights back tears.

"A stranger, a hero, a man born of the light, and gave me faith in humanity, helped this old man say good bye to the wielder of this toy."

A tear rolls down his cheek, "You, Light Bringer, Hope Blackwood, are that man, and you helped bury my son. That is how we met."

Tirion Fordring…I remember…that mace…

All light breaks. My knees grow weak. I look upon the mace with all my being. I remember the mace. I even remember the writing on top. The small engraved message of this old man…

My mouth opens, "To my dear boy, Taelan With love, father."

Snow chills my knees. Blue flames spew for a moment longer before vanishing from my sight. Black edges fade to light. Tears roll down my cheek just as the man before me.

Again I feel my lips separate, "I am not the same boy you knew. I am…a monster."

He chuckles and wipes the tears from his eyes, "No, boy, you are simply confused." He comes to his feet. "You were and still are…a hero."

His hand lowers to me.

"I, Tirion Fordring, will follow you, Light Bringer, to the ends of Azeroth, and even into Arthas' lair with a shovel and a prayer."

He smiles, "Now, arise, Champion of the Light, arise. There is a long journey still ahead of us. We will need our strength and a place to rest if you wish to compete in my trial. Hero."

Hero?

I lift my hand and lock with his. Tirion may believe it. He may believe I am not a monster.

He pulls me to my feet.

I only hope the rest of the world will see it that way when they look back upon this day.


	9. Chapter 9: Insignificant

I rest awkwardly on these cold, stone steps of a large Alliance inn. From here I watch Sylvanas, Tirion, and a large man covered in gray armored outlined in bronze. A large yellow lion head is etched into the front of his long, blue tabard. _You remembered! He knew what it was._

This tall completely armored individual is referred as Bronzeman -- well, I call him that anyway. Bronzeman has two rather loud soldiers near him covered in the same colored outfit. They all look strikingly familiar, despite the two lackey's lack of helm.

Anyway, Bronzeman, Tirion, and Sylvanas all stand together and plot some unknown plot. I am guessing from the rage the lady emits that it involves me. It wouldn't be surprising; she didn't make the walk up here, to Wintergarde, easy at all. _You did deserve it. He had it coming!_

Yeah, she did have all the right in the world.

About two hours ago we started the trek from the flaming ruins of what they call Venomspite. Tirion gathered the unconscious Sylvanas from the collapsing Inn while Mark slapped the Nathanos over his shoulder like a worn out mattress.

Jessica and Carlin spoke quietly to themselves about something. I am not sure what it was, but they seemed rather cheerful with each other despite the fact of what had occurred. _You missed something there. He certainly did._

So, once all the wounded were gathered and everyone were motivated to move, we took off down the trail where the Scourge once was. All that remained of the once aggressive force were scorched ruins and dissipated hatred.

The road winded up against a cliff. Occasionally a Scourge skeleton or wandering ghoul would foolishly scamper its way to us, only to find its way back to the grave. We came across what I was told the lower portion of Wintergarde.

Sadly, the Scourge had overrun the vast majority of this section prior, but the bronze armored men seemed to be handling them quite easily. But is what looms overhead that drew my attention. It is the fortress of flight that caught my eye...

Naxxramas.

But enough with dull descriptions, what is important was the march. As we neared the border of the city's keep the pack had a rude awakening – quite literally. Sylvanas stirred from her undesired slumber and after a second of regaining her mind…she assaulted me.

Her hands locked to my throat; of course, she didn't really achieve anything by this, but a nice dose of warmth. She promptly let go of my sore neck and went for the helm on my head. Fingers hooked to the edges of my vision and shook my reality into an earthquake of existence.

Tirion tried to pull her off, but she just kept going at me. The first thing she actually said came a strange five minutes into the thrashing.

"Goldfish, smack me with your shovel, will you?!" She screamed, "I will wedge that spade so far up your back end you will be able to taste the tip of your metal!"

At that point she went for my shovel, but Tirion forcefully stopped her. The old man was able to get her arms and was strong enough to carry her away by her elbows. Thankfully Tirion was able to calm her a good distance from us.

Sadly, something else continued where she left off. It smacked the back of my head and laughed.

"Worm, is it 'beat on you' day again?" The cackle of the unbelievable Nathanos rained for me, "Because I will more than willingly take part."

I spun and saw the undead man standing. Mark seemed rather uncomfortable, and I got the feeling Nathanos didn't like being carried. _You know your undead commanders. He knows Nathanos well._

It would seem, as we continued onward, that Nathanos had used the Inn's door to absorb the bulk of the blast, which would explain the splintering word raining from him as fell. He was knocked unconscious from the blast. Not killed.

What a cheater! He tried to tell me we were even! That undead creep used a door to take the death coil, while I took it to the chest! _You are just a fool. He needs to carry a door with him at all time. You can call it your lucky charm! He can wear it as a necklace!_

Nathanos was still alive, still disgruntled, and still annoying. Looks like I overreacted just a bit. _You burned down a town. He almost killed Tirion Fordring! You would have been better killing a puppy! He would have killed thousands if allowed!_

And that, despite its lackluster telling, was the march to Wintergarde and the only bastion that is its keep. _You are no Carlin. He is the puppy-killing cousin of Carlin_. Will you stop saying I kill puppies? _You have to prove you never did. He has no evidence!_

You live in my head! You see what I see! Never once have I struck a small, adorable dog. Actually, I don't believe I have ever seen a puppy before. _You are a sad man. He hasn't cuddled a tiny furry love fluff before?!_

Wait, now that I haven't seen a dog, it is sad and depressing. _You didn't hear us say depressing. He does know it is true. _When we finish this we will buy a puppy, ok? _You are going to forget all about Wriggler?! He dares forget The Wriggler?!_

Wriggler isn't a puppy! He is a giant, decaying Nathanos beast. That and you hate that dog. _You put words in our mouths! He puts words in his own mouth that are put in our mouths. _

What?

Suddenly a loud, welcome voice bellows from the discussing pack at the bottom of the sloping path before me.

"He must be dealt with swiftly and immediately!" An armored lackey of Bronzeman speaks.

"Swiftly? We don't even know the evil that stirs within. It would be foolish to strike even when he appears vulnerable." Tirion loudly counters.

A few responses flow from Bronzeman and the other lackey, but they are far quieter and alas, I cannot read lips. Especially through a helm that covers the man's entire face. _You need to learn to metal read! He needs a useful skill besides digging holes._

The speaker switches occasionally. It moves from one person onto the other. Come on, what are you guys saying?

"Set the evil ablaze!" Sylvanas riles, "Take the sick and twisted fortress of darkness and engulf it in flames."

Whoa, I am flammable! That would work all too well! _You need to stop jumping to conclusions. They might not be talking about you! _

"Bring the evil no time to gather! Destroy hope!" A lackey speaks.

You see! They plot my demise. _You don't know if that hope meant you. He could be hearing the actual word not your foolish self._

A sudden force jerks in my back, and I leap to my feet. Nathanos recoils his leg while the muscles on the sides of his face curl to a smile.

"You jerk!" I quiet my voice and shift to him, "Don't you see I am trying figure out how they are planning to kill me?"

An eyebrow of his rises.

"Flattering yourself much, eh, Worm?" He walks past me, "If they wanted to kill you, they would have asked me. And, well, you would be dead already."

He turns his head to me as he stands towards the bickering pack of leaders.

"And how easily I snuck up on you, I would have had time to kill you a dozen times before your thick head even realized it."

"No!" I raise my arm than lower, "Well, actually, yeah. Probably."

I sigh. My body begins relaxing and focusing once again, but a chirp from behind forces me to spin. Jessica barrels from the Inn with the look of determination slapped upon her face. Carlin lags behind…

She rushes to me and gives me a forceful shove. Unexpectedly I stumble backwards a bit and gawk at her. Her hands slip under my shoulder pads, allowing her to jerk me back and speak through gnarled teeth.

"Don't you ever do that again, sir!" She, like Sylvanas gives me a shake, "If you ever dare strike at Fordring again, I will personally stab you with your own shovel."

What is it with women and threatening to stab me with my own tool?

I shake my head, "Never again, Jessica…never…"

My body rattles, "And why didn't you tell me my uncle was here? Still alive?"

My eyes widen and I stare at her. Lips open but only quiver. It is then I glance up to Carlin of whom throws me a smirk. Then I shift my eyes back down.

"Ah, so, your uncle is Carlin?" I pause, "I didn't know I was supposed to know Jessica and Carlin was a family relation identifier."

Her eyes narrow on me and she gives me another shake, "Don't you think you will get away with this so easily."

Carlin chuckles and walks up beside her.

"Dear, go easy on the boy. Even if you had told him your last name, I doubt he would have thought about it long enough to piece it together."

She simply shakes her head before snorting angrily.

"What were you even thinking back there, Hope? What was going on in that crazy head of yours? You burned a town to the ground!"

Lips part to speak. Words wander in my mind. I attempt to form sentences, but the inability is apparent. My eyes drift to the ground. Visions of the horrible blur of an event span my vision. I can see every moment, but none of if seems real. None at all.

"Hope?"

Without looking I speak.

"Darkness. My nightmares of that terrible innocent seemed so wrong. They seemed to lure me from what was really going to happen."

I pause to sight.

"But in the end the nightmares showed the truth…"

Carlin wriggles.

"What nightmares, Hope?"

"On the ship and in the prison; they foretold a great battle between the Lich King and I." Again I sigh and my eyes close, "But each time, right as I neared the strike to destroy the sinister being…I fell…"

My eyes lift to them.

"I fell into darkness. It was the truth. It told me what was going to happen, and like clockwork the hands of fate aligned."

Jessica's eyes widen slightly as she speaks softly.

"What happened when you snapped? What was going through your head."

Orbs of determination lock with hers, and I speak loudly, "Darkness swept the corners of my vision." My eyebrows draw down, "Blue flames signified the rage burning within"

I take a step forward, not breaking my lock.

"Heat churned my soul, but made my flesh as cold as ice. All warmth was hidden by frosty death. I felt invincible."

I pause. Thoughts rattle my mind, but I keep focused.

"For a brief moment I felt it…I felt what it was like…"

A sweep of sorrow and concern stretches the young woman's face as I draw closer to her.

"For a moment…I felt as if I was the Lich King himself. Dark, cold, merciless and egotistical. A god of ignorance."

Fear sweeps her face. Her red lips separate and quiver gently. She makes to scream a story of agony, but only weak yelps of confusion emit from her mouth. Her eyes dance sadly upon mine.

"And our hero overcame the darkness!" A firm slap breaks my focus, and I spin to see a smiling Tirion. "This boy here is the prime example of the light!"

Nathanos grunts, and I cannot help but look upon the old man with the same enthusiasm as the undead jerk.

"Wait…Tirion…I attacked you. I could have killed you."

He chuckles and grips both hands on my shoulders, "Lad and I could have you. Moral of the story, we are currently alive and well."

After a shake he lets me go. However, I cannot help but keep on the topic.

"But, I heard you guys talking killing Hope. Destroying Hope…"

Oddly a deep, confident chuckle rolls from Bronzeman as he shifts into vision.

"Boy, my men are overzealous at times. We were not talking about destroying you as person," He points to the floating fortress overhead, "Naxxramas was our target. The fortress has been strangely active since an armored Zeppelin shot at it for some reason."

"Skippy…"

"What?"

I shake my head, "Nothing. But…so…no one is mad that I destroyed that post down there? That I went all evil?"

Again he laughs as well as does Tirion. Bronzeman shakes his head and puffs a large cloud of smoke from some unseen holes in his helmet.

"No, Hope, it was a Horde post. Horde. That meaning I don't care if you burned it." He chuckles, "Not only that, but you wounded that nuisance of death knight that has been continuing the onslaught upon this fortress!"

I raise an eyebrow, "You mean the Herald? Jon?"

He nods, "Yes, if I recall that fool kept screaming about ending the light, or something." His arm lifts past my head as he points at something unseen, "After a boat arrived on the shores a few weeks ago, death swept the shores like a unyielding, sick fad."

His vision darts back to me, "This said epidemic led by the Herald, the new monster."

He shrugs, "Would appear you did more good than evil. Dead zombies, beaten Herald," Bronzeman turns and motions to Sylvanas, "This woman here seemed rather pleased you took out the eyesore of the infamous Putress. The town, Venomspite."

Sylvanas swiftly walks up to the armored man and promptly kicks his shin. Of course she does nothing and walks towards a pack of giant white…rather beautiful birds. _You twit, those are Gryphons! He needs to learn his giant winged creatures!_

She turns to me and glares angrily with flaming eyes, "Do not assume you got away with this, Goldfish." In a flash she rushes to the bird and takes a position upon it, "Just be thankful the many distractions of this frozen waste keep me from maiming you."

At that the beast claws forward, and the woman whips the reins. She darts into the air, but not before she glares one last time at me. _You know she wants you. He needs to go get a piece of that!_ What?

Bah, forget it.

Wait…I turn to Tirion and throw him an expression of confusion.

"Where is she going?"

He watches the Gryphon as it moves. After a second he frowns and shakes his head, "I believe she is headed to Dalaran and then to the Coliseum."

His vision diverts back to me, "Speaking of which, let us get on our way."

In a hurry he rushes past the Bronzeman and waves to Nathanos. He sighs and swiftly moves to the birds. Carlin and Jessica follow suit, and I figure I might as well. _You act as if you have a choice. He will have to walk otherwise._

Tirion jumps on to the back of a Gryphon and he motions to a bird with a small, bearded man. Without hesitation I move to the man, and as I reach him he extends his hand.

"Lad, what an honor!" I grip his metal palm, "Captain Tighturn and Airbreeze at ye' service!" He slaps his grand bird as he says Airbreeze.

I give him a firm handshake and shift on the Gryphon, "Thank you, Captain. Hope Blackwood coming aboard your…Gryphon here."

He chuckles and points back. I watch Nathanos do the same. Carlin and Jessica swiftly board their mounts. Mark sighs as he nears the bird then shakes his head. Finally, after a moment of thought she slips upon the bird and gets as comfortable as he can.

I cannot help but glance to Nathanos and smirk, "Don't know how to handle one of these, eh, Commander?"

He turns and swings at the air.

"I will strangle you with my thoughts, Worm!"

Tirion chuckles from my side and loudly proclaims. "Ok, ladies and gentlemen, I will be heading to the frozen mountains of Storm Peaks." He looks to me, "Hope you will be coming with me."

Nathanos grunts, "Looks like I following you then, Fordring."

Tirion nods and continues, "Carlin, Jessica, Mark, head to Dalaran and then to the Coliseum. Get a little rest before the grand trial!"

The three nod in unison before the Tirion shifts his direction back to me. "You lads ready?"

Again Nathanos grunts, "Why, pray tell, are we heading to the useless peaks of the Titans?"

Tirion whips his reins and begins moving forward. Suddenly the beast whips its mighty wings to the sides, tearing snow in a circular frenzy. In a flash the bird shoots upwards before hovering upon the air.

"To meet an old friend, Mr. Marris."

At that he propels forward. The reins of the bird next to me whip, and I hear Nathanos groan as the bird starts the same motion as Tirion's mount.

Nathanos suddenly flinches and cries, "No, no! Wait, I am not read…"

Without letting him finish the rider takes to the air and the two of them follow quickly after Tirion.

My rider chuckles and cracks his leather, "Ok, Light Bringer, ya ready for the ride of ye'iife?"

I look to him, and simply nod. The tiny man laughs and the Gryphon moves forward. It wobbles side to side before coming to a majestic upright posture. Once there its wings whirl outward and beat heavily.

Wait…maybe I am…

Force grips my sides. My body rocks and sickness consumes me. Another quick jerk of movement pulls me other the direction then to another as we reposition. Ugh, I am not feeling well. _You will be alright. He needs a barf bag._

Speed gathers at the bird's wings as he barrel forward. Mountains pass by underneath us. Figures ahead seem to not move at all. The world below, however, moves rapidly and unpleasantly.

I hate…flying!


	10. Chapter 10: Dreams and Snow

I hate flying!

White wings rhythmically play with nature's design. Tiny arms flick the reins of the beast beating the wind. My arms wrap round the small figure's waist as a terrible queasy feeling punches its way home.

Staring straight onward I can only see the dragging hair of the dwarf man, and the fluttering feathers of the insanely quick elegant creature. I am hoping if I focus forward I will be available to successfully control myself; alas, my stomach is not one for misguided prayers.

Ugh…_You need to relax. He is far too high strung._

For some reason, unbeknownst to myself, I swing my head to the left. Tirion sits comfortably upon the wings of his beast, controlling the reins and bracing his vision like a true rider. As I stare at him, glinting sparks fall from his armored suit and draw back from his body like multiple shiny tails. Makes me…kind…of…sick…

Look away!

Flinging my head to the other side, I can see Nathanos comfortably gripping the rider with one hand. Oddly he lets his other arm stick vertically and drag with the wind. I have no idea what he is doing. _You know he is trying to feel the wind between his fingers. He knows it is hard because Nathanos doesn't have skin on his hands_.

Oh-no. Fleshless. Sick. Stomach…bleh…

Once again I find myself gawking half-heartedly forward. Wind slips in and out of my partially opened mouth, but I don't care. Eyelids feel heavier than normal. The whole of my body feels so…not…right. _You are losing it. He is losing something else._

Maybe I should try looking down. _You get that thought out of your head! HE…NOO._

Ok, ok. Let's not look down. That is probably the better option. Keep looking forward, Hope. Watch the mountaintops slip in and out of sight beneath the bird's head. Watch the beautiful scenery ahead, brown and gray littering seas of glamorous white. Watch…the giant white tree slowly coming into sight?

"What in the world is that?" I speak uncontrollably.

"What is what, Hope?" Tirion replies, and I shift my vision to him.

"The tree. Why is there is an enormous tree ahead of us?"

"A tree?" He leans forward and squints, "Oh, that tree. Ah, yes, that tree."

There is a pause.

"Go on, Fordring, tell the Worm about the pretty tree." Nathanos properly interjects. "Tell him a bed time story to calm his churning belly."

Movement stirs my attention as Nathanos shifts. The decaying jerk rotates on his mount and looks directly at me. Muscles curve at the edges of his lips.

"Isn't that right, Worm? Belly aching?"

Without saying a word to him I assault his mind with an angry expression built for destruction. He, of course, simply bats it away like always and spins back forward. Chuckles lift from his direction and float to me.

Finally I hear Tirion's voice again, "Yes, that tree belongs to the region we are quickly closing upon. Belongs to Crystalsong forest, if I am not mistaken."

He rocks and flips his reins, "I am not a master of nature or anything arcane and such, but I do know that tree is a combination of both. Not exactly certain how or why, but the tree, once a thing of splendor, now an object of magical torment."

"What?" My baffled state cannot help but interrupt.

"Well…"

His Gryphon begins to rise, and sadly, I too begin feeling the pull of an ascending bird. Reluctantly I look forward and watch as we glide across a rather elevated mountaintop. From this distance I can see tiny white animals skittering across the surface of the powdery snow.

Blocks of brown stone jut in all directions, attempting to break free of the snow, but still wearing the powdery cover like a finely fitting hat. In flash we slip over the highest point of this said wonder, and it instantly fades under the bird.

Boo, I was looking at that.

Suddenly, the gray haze that seemed to follow us every inch of the way begins to fade. As the mountain falls into the backdrop of our flight, the air seems to grow crisp and clear. My head whips upwards, and I cannot believe my eyes.

I can see the sun.

Clouds break just barely, and I know what that is it. Such a bright, indescribable beauty. The last time it shone so perfectly and so pure was back on the shores of Kalimdor. Sadly, I was only allowed to savor that treat for a short time; scourge going and drawing my attention and such.

But, like on the lands of red soil, the sun only stays for a brief duration. Clouds quickly gather and close. Black and gray puffs of teary sky merge and convene to block the bright rays. Slowly, and depressingly, they finish their sinister duty and the light fades behind walls of gray.

Boo, I was looking at that too….

"Hope, take a look at your discovery." The voice of Tirion directs me.

Without hesitating I spin, and whoa. Enormous pinkish white branches extend only yards overhead. Crystalline leaves gather and flow down the mighty stone limbs and build upon the cracking whitish pink object.

Light gathers in pockets of diamond shaped bark that build the block of the body. Chunks of white stone float from the base as if the tree shattered, yet managed to keep its whole.

I cannot help but look the tree up and down multiple times. It looks like it is made of glass, and that someone came by and smashed the base of trunk and then the bottom of the branches. It doesn't seem real. Almost like something from my dreams…

As we fly past it, masses of pink glass orbit the core that is the trunk. Branches hum loudly as we sweep past them. They almost sound as if they are trying to speak to us. Trying to gently whisper untold tales directly into our minds.

We quickly begin to pass it, when I notice two things. Firstly, a strange, gray and black object floats out of place near a branch. Secondly, I am pretty sure the trunk of the tree is hollow. You _are correct. He needs to follow that strange black thing…_

Focusing my vision, I watch it grow larger as we near it. Rather strange thing. It has a flat base, and strange carvings running up the side. A bulky, round curve forms as you navigate up it before it runs to two jutting spikes that extend from the sides.

I continue to look as we draw closer…

"Tirion."

I wait until I know he focused on me before saying, "What is that?"

He throws a glance to me than follows my arm. Once again he leans forward and squints. Strong eyes navigate the almost stone like structure that floats oddly upon the air. Determined inquisitive eyes drive the man to the discovery necessary.

"Oh no…"

"Enemy units detected!" A deep, dark, sinister almost mechanical voice radiates from directly overhead.

"All units activate protocol: Dark Rising."

My eyes catch sight of a gray figure looming above. I can make out the object perfectly from here. Four Large legs locked at the edges slowly glow black. The rounder curves that is its body fades to dark, while gold glistens at the waist.

Jutting spikes jerk and reveal two, massive arms that bear blades. These limbs run to shoulders covered in a fine gold armor and back to large folds of black. The same gold armor covers the head, runs around the neck and ends in the middle of the chest.

Black emerges on the front of the face, where a sundered section splits. Rows of finely crafted teeth run to two green-gemmed eyes. The same gems that lock upon me and beam to me. They call as many have before. They scream for my life. They demand…my death.

Sparks build from the risen arms at its side as the gray block base separates from the monster and falls harmlessly to the ground below. Sinister bolts of light dance perfectly from one blade to the other just passing the monster's head.

The head shifts and the eyes lock.

"Destroyer activated!" Legs whip at the side as a pair of wings shoot from its back.

It takes to flight and screeches, "Target acquired! Light Bringer extermination commencing."

Great…

Dull, yellow flashes burst from the blades. A tether gathers between the two, connecting them with a sinister, electrical fire. Air parts and flees to the assaulting mass. Death follows the borders of the misshapen mass to its destination. I grab for my weapon, but there is no way.

Suddenly a jerk grabs my body, and all reality shifts downward. A burning sensation crosses the top of my skull, and I instinctively drag towards the rider. A blurred orb spirals harmlessly overhead as we…go…down.

My eyes drag forward, and my stomach jerks upwards. Wings beat faster before stretching to a glide. We are shooting down at a horrific angle and at a terrible speed.

Ugh…

A spark ripples past my head. I spin. To my dismay I see a half a dozen monsters chasing closely behind our speeding mounts. Bladed weapons gleam as shaking legs react to moving wings.

"Hold on, lad!" The rider calls to me, and…

A swift jerk forces me frontward. The entire world shifts to my right. We shift and once again we are level. With a hard right turn we aim for the tree. The beast realigns back to normality before shifting to left.

Spark shoots past.

Jerk to the right.

Spark.

Left.

Spark.

Right.

Spark.

Ugh….

With another hard right, pinkish light fills my sight. Chunks of icy glass shoot past us in all directions. We swerve past blocks of the shattered tree smoothly and calmly. _CARASH. _A beast spirals out of control as it collides into a floating obstruction.

Ha!

Suddenly movement to my side draws my attention. My eyes catch sight of a swiftly moving bird to my left and a good distance away. Three or four close in behind it, but they are slowed by the barrage of arrows raining from the back of the beast.

"I thought I ended your kind years past!" Nathanos screams to the chasing destroyer sas I feel a sharp right…left…right…

"Scourge genocide is my specialty!" Arrows continue to rain, "Consider yourselves extinct!

His ride shoots up and out of sight behind blocks of white.

"Lad, pray ye'stomach don't come out'ye'bum!" Again the rider calls to me.

That is a terrible thing to hear…

A harsh right draws me back frontward. All around me pink beams into my retinas. Light radiates brightly and covers my being as we aim for a shattered hole in the base of the tree. Smaller, sharp blades of glass shoot past.

We near. Faster we travel.

"Here we go!"

Horrific force shoots through my head. It pulls down into my shoulders. It jerks at my spine and rattles my innards. Legs lock at the sides of the beast as we begin an insane vertical climb.

Air grips the edges of my face. Wind slices at my exposed flesh. The bird pulls hard and aims upward. Arching fast, I am not sure if it is going to make it! The far wall draws in close. Almost vertical. Wall is closer!

Come on!

Glass sprinkles across my legs. Pricks of pain radiate on my flesh, but I do not care. With a twist and shift to the middle we ride the heart of the hollowed tree straight upward.

We are moving at a ridiculous speed. _CAHRASH, CAHRASH, CAHRASH. _One, two, three destroyers slam into the base of the tree as they fail the match the move this insane rider pulled off.

Sadly, five shift properly and continue on with their pursuit. Five? Wait…where did five come from?! _You gained friends. He is popular amongst the scourge. _We barrel for the top end and aim for our exit.

Unexpectedly black objects appear at the top of the trunk. Three or four more beasts shoot downwards at us. Skilled riding glides us between shots, but this not good. _You said it. He needs to step up to plate._

"Lad, I don't know how we are gonna beat this one."

I reach back, pull the trusty shovel off my back and flip it over the rider's shoulder.

"Shovel, lad?" He carefully reaches down, pulls a canteen from a small pouch and quickly inhales the fluid.

Letting the canteen drop he speaks, "With that there liquid, anything is possible!"

He points forward, "Give thessh monshters a s-shoveling!"

With a smile on my face, and a thought in my head, I let the blade glow and the weapon hum.

Flash.

Energy courses upwards. Slivers of glass are torn from the bark as it travels. Chunks tear into the core. Each passing second the orb grows larger. Each second it is fed. Each second is given power for nature itself.

Explosion.

Light rains down. It illuminates and consumes all darkness. It blinds all sight. Bits of black float past as we near the collision point. Warm sensation dances over our flesh as we whip through the pocket of loitering light.

In a flash we burst from the top of the tree.

With a hard, rather sloppy tug we jerk from the vertical ascension and glide back to a flat level of play. Finally, that was giving my legs a work out. _You need more exercise. He needs to run more._

Still traveling at a breakneck speed, we shoot past the branches and in moments leave the beautiful tree behind. Of course, we do not do so without giving the tree a mark to remember us by. _You blew a chunk out of that thing. He gave it a haircut!_

A sudden jerk draws me back to reality. Spark.

We aim for another set of mountains as we continue on. Behind are still four angry destroyers with the intent to bring justice to their name. Suddenly a bright, coned arch of holy power tears through two. Before they can splinter and fall, Tirion and his ride whip past.

Smoothly he pulls beside me and points towards the mountains. "There, that is our destination!"

My eyes focus with the rising horizon of piney, rising stone, but do not stay their long.

I twist back to see a large pack of rather enraged foes. It would seem that the monsters falling Tirion took the place of the fallen. Sparks soar past us. Orbs of destructive energy barrel past our heads. Unfortunately for them, we have grown comfortable with their slow barrage.

"How many are there or you, you stupid flying centaurs?!" Nathanos' voice travels as we draws towards. He flies parallel to us, but is a distance away.

A jerk pulls me frontward, and I gawk as we fly over the cliff. Sparks rain harder and more frequently. The bird tries to glide between them all, but there are so many. A sudden burning sensation ripples from my leg.

Bits of a spark grab the flesh, but fortunately glides past. It didn't take my leg, but it sure didn't leave me wanting more. _You think that hurts! He knows it does!_

Enough of this!

Spinning, I draw my shovel to them. Sparks shoot past my head. They skim past my limbs. They burn my flesh and heat my armor. Focus, Hope, focus. Light builds at the tip of the spade. Humming radiates forth.

Suddenly, unexpectedly, they stop. As we continue ascending, the winged beasts slow and stop. Ahha! I would be afraid of me, too. You saw what I did to your friends back there! _You better not get too cocky. He wasn't alone on this one._

Before I can even move, an object appears overhead. Emerging in my vision is a large bird. Long, white wings glide the beast across the skies. This bird resembles the Gryphon that I ride, but this beast is solid white, and the rider wears no saddle.

In flash it shoots by. Following fast are a dozen more. Quickly they near the darkened foes. Oddly, the scourge units turn and begin fleeing. That is disappointing. They were not afraid of me after all…_You will have a chance to be scary. He will._

At least that chase is over…

My body repositions properly ahead just as we begin our descent. Wings slow and begin gliding as we circle a strange sight. Tiny, dwarfen men scurry across the surface of small chasm. White birds rest on perches on various locations, and riders rush to their backs.

Hundreds of men align at the bottom of the chasm. It would seem that they are preparing for something. Quickly we make one last circle above before our descension. Tirion lands first at the edge of the chasm, and we follow quickly after. Nathanos is last this time.

Hurriedly Tirion jumps from his mount and makes his way to a short path. He slows as he nears a rather large dwarf nestled near an iron throne built into the side of an ice wall. The dwarf clad in solid blue armor leaps forward and throws his arms into the air with excitement.

"Lord Fordring, lad! Where'ye been!" He leaps from the throne and rushes to meet Tirion half way.

"Yorg, good sir, I have been spreading the light to the corners of the planet."

"And ye'couldn't find time for good'ol Yorg?" He gives Tirion a rather firm handshake, before Tirion pulls down and gives a firm man-hug to the dwarf.

Tirion laughs as he comes to his feet. "I am here now, aren't I?"

"Yes, lad." He pauses to look at us, "Who are'ye friends, Tirion?"

The old man points, but the dwarf breaks and heads straight to me. "My word, is that…?"

He comes to my legs and looks to me, "By the might of frost, ye'are the Light Bringer."

His hand rises to me. "An honor, lad, an honor."

I look down at his hand and oddly reach for it. As his fingers wrap with mine, I cannot help but think of what he said. Light Bringer? The destroyer called me that. The dwarf…Tirion…

Looks like I am better known than I thought…


	11. Chapter 11: Blinded Blades

The tiny dwarf shuffles back to Tirion and whispers something quietly. Fat little hands wriggle around as the calm Tirion nods patiently. After a minute or two of strange movement, the dwarf composes himself and makes his way back to me.

"Hope Blackwood, do accept my apologies." He stops a few feet from me, a smile stretching his face. "Involuntarily Tirion exposed ye'identity to me, yet I have not given mine ta'ya."

His hand extends towards me again, "Light Bringer, I am King of the grand soldiers you see before you!"

As I grab and shake his hand again, he uses his free hand to motion at the troops, "King of the Frostborn! I am Yorg Stormheart, and it is a pleasure to make your…

"Yorg? Stormheart? You take a hit too hard to your head, dwarf?" Nathanos rudely interrupts the rather kind individual.

Releasing my grip, the smile fades and armor shuffles as the now disgruntled figure peers angrily at the undead fool.

"And who might ya'be?"

"Me? I am commander of the eastern forces, second only to Sylvanas, only human ranger to ever exist." He pauses to stand upright, "I am Nathanos Marris, and you, sir, never struck me as a 'Yorg' before."

The dwarf fidgets in his spot, eyes narrowing on the undead man. He takes a few steps forward and eyes the decaying soldier carefully. Squinting eyes examine for a moment longer before the dwarf grunts and shakes his head.

"No, ye'awr not Marris. Marris is a rugged, manly man. Ye are…sickly and homely."

Eyebrows narrow on Nathanos' face, "Yes, death and reanimation does that to a man. As does the cold freeze body and mind, Muradin."

Muradin? Who is Muradin? _You need to look at the dwarf. He knows it is dwarf. _Oh…

Suddenly the dwarf begins to laugh, "Ah, ye have the same attitude as good ol'Nathanos. But lad, death was definitely unkind to ye."

Nathanos simply nods before twirling his hand in the usual crazy undead fashion. I believe he is trying to be sarcastic with his hands, if that is possible. _You are trying to decipher that? He is trying to do something…_

Muradin…Yorg? Yorgadin throws a nod to the undead figure one last time before looking to me. Another head-bob flies my way as he makes his route back to Tirion. Half way on his path he hurls his arms into the air and proclaims.

"Tirion, it has been too long! Months went by and only tales of ye'adventures floated back to Frosthold."

Tirion leans on his handle and smirks, "Like I said, my friend, darkness was trying to creep across the lands, and I had to be there establish the holy road-blocks of light."

Yorgadin chuckles.

"Yes lad, I definitely felt the power of ye'crusade wafting back to me home here, but…"

He pauses to look back at me, yet not at me. His eyes float over my shoulders as he throws an angry glance at something far in the distance. A stern demeanor now rests upon his face.

"Death has come, lad. Death marches across these frozen lands. And it marches ferociously."

Quickly he spins back to Tirion and awaits his response. Calmly Tirion slides his metallic fingers through his long hair. Strands flop heavily upon his as if they are miniature worlds to burden.

"I know, Muradin, I know." He sighs, "Armies of undead have begun assaulting all bastions of life on this icy rock.

His eyes gaze upwards briefly, "The Lich King knows his end is near. And is not preparing for it lying down."

A wild head bob radiates from the dwarf. Tirion looks back to me as the dwarf speaks.

"Yes, lad, that he ain't." He points past Nathanos this time. "Dark clouds have been assembling far north of here. On the coasts of Icecrown itself."

Icecrown? _You ninny, that is the home of the Lich King. He knows it is the location of the Dark Citadel itself! _I wish I could say I did.

Tirion lifts his weapon from its firm lock with ground and moves to the dwarf. An expression of concern concocts on his face. Hairs matt to his forehead and block his vision. A frown forms.

"The Coliseum."

"Lad?"

"Constructed months ago, it was designed to test the strength of the strongest of heroes. If they bested the trial then they knew they were prepared for the final push on the Citadel."

Yorgadin shifts his arm back with his large paws before scratching his head violently.

"That was a mouth full, lad." He suddenly jerks and peers at Tirion, "Wait, lad, why wasn't I invited to ye'battle?"

Tirion simply shakes his head.

"Waste of time. You are more than prepared for death's embrace. I needed you to gather troops and train them into equality of yourself." He pauses, "And they look far more than ready."

Snow shuffles beneath heavy blue boots. A thick, bright yellow beard shakes as the tiny man rotates. Clanking armor clings together. Squinting eyes glare as snow clings to heavy eyebrows.

"Lad…what are ye'saying?"

Tirion does not move.

"It is time, Muradin"

Muradin stands stiff as a statue. A weak breeze draws powdery walls up and over the tiny man. More fine white crystals build upon his beard. He eyes Tirion as if answers are prepping to pour for his very armor.

Again clanking armor clings and the small man moves. He positions himself to the edge of the chasm and looks down. Firm fingers glide back to the top of his head and aid the fall of the helmet back to his face.

"I will gather my troops, Tirion. Gather them as swiftly as I can." His voice quickens and intensifies as he speaks.

"They should take no…"

Tirion interrupts, "No worries, my friend." His shift and locks with something past me. "Do what is necessary."

Muradin shuffles in his spot. "Lad, what are you planning to do?"

Tirion continues to stare past. Firm eyes are narrowed as eyebrows drag down. Strands dance wildly in the cold breeze. He sees something that we do not. He takes in what we cannot feel. He takes in the weight of the world. He takes it all…

Unexpectedly the man turns and takes off at a brisk walk. He directs himself for his mount and moves for it at a swift pace. Muradin turns and stares at him briefly before shouting.

"Where are ya'headed, lad?"

Tirion climbs on his bird, and I cannot help but rush to him. The Gryphon kicks snow up as it shifts through the powder and trots towards me. Thudding talons track the ground they crack upon.

Tirion comes up to me and throws me an unusual glare.

"Go north. To the dark clouds. There you shall find the trial of the Crusade." He whips the reins and speeds past me. However, before he continues he reaches into his pocket and pulls something out.

"Here, Hope, this is for you." With a flick his wrist he lets fly a tiny glinting object.

Just barely am I able to catch it. It rocks in my hands for a brief second. Fingers fidget with it, and I finally get a good look at it. Sharp teeth bore into a slender, flat body and end at a small circle of a head.

A key.

Before I can say a thing the bird takes to the air. As he lifts from the ground, I yell to him.

"Tirion, wait. Where are you going?"

The Gryphon stops and rotates as it hovers.

"To the rising darkness of the south."

He makes to move, but Muradin speaks, "Tirion, those clouds. Ye'cannot go to those clouds…" He pauses, "…they loom over the Citadel itself. There is no way…"

Tirion whips the reins again and takes to the skies, leaving behind the three of us. We stand baffled and confused. However, as he reaches the edge of Frosthold he shouts. A booming, traveling echo calls to all the land, but aims solely for one individual.

"Travel with the Light, Hope! With it, you shall never be lost. Even as the shroud descends, you shall never be lost."

His voice fades as he travels. His words wrap around my mind. Echoes call repeat rapidly all across the valley and chasm of this mountain-ridden terrain. What do they mean? _You have no idea. He has no clue._

Gold armor glints. White wings beat upon silent air. Slowly he fades into a small dot. Firm hair glides with the wind. Trails of bright light burn behind the flying man. Slowly he fades into nothing. Nothing.

"Well, Worm, looks like it just you and me." Nathanos walks past me. He waves to the rider, "And some rather intoxicated looking drivers."

He slips to the back of the Gryphon and gives the man a pat on his shoulder before looking back to me. Shrugging shoulders suggest my movement, but my eyes bring only ignorance to his request.

I look back at the dwarf. He still stands at the ledge, but has himself positioned with shoulders facing it and myself. A yellow beard draws from the pit and shifts to me as if he knew I was looking at him.

"Muradin, will I see you at the Coliseum? It would be nice to have more than bony there as company."

He chuckles and looks to the chasm as he speaks, "If fate's hand permits, my boy. If fate's hand permits."

Tiny eyes direct back to me, "Go lad, the undead fellow is stressing what few muscles he has left to silently scream at ya."

I cannot help but smile. Again he peers into the chasm. At that, I move from my firm stance and jog quickly to the Gryphon. In a flash I leap confidently to the back of the bird.

"Ya ready, lad?" He wobbles on his saddle.

"I don't know. I am pretty sure the question to be asked is 'are you ready?'"

He chuckles and instantly whips the reins. Speedily the beast shoots vertically before rotating mid-air. Wow, these birds are maneuverable. _You said it. He certainly did._

Reins whip again. Force pulls at my body. Hurriedly we shoot forward. Gusts of wind break against my skin. Mountain peaks float into vision, whip under us, and vanish only to repeat the cycle. We are moving incredibly fast, speedier than the ever prior.

Flashes of light borrow into the heart of darkness. Bellowing clashes hold back the light and draw into shadow. Overhead the rumbling roar of menacing, enraged clouds calls to us. They scream for our attention. They scream for our sanity. They scream…for our fear.

They scream…Icecrown.

"My word…" The dwarf whispers softly as he skillfully navigates the mountain's edge.

"Lad, are ya'seeing this?"

I throw a quick glance to him. His eyes divert up then down, up, down, up, down. He tries to steer the bird at the same time as he keenly spies something below. I make to check, but Nathanos draws my attention.

"Sweet mother of Azeroth, there are so many."

Without hesitating I shift my vision downward. At first I simply see a thick black coating over the average white snow. As we move I notice that the mountains seem darker, almost black in hew. Snow doesn't cling to the surface as readily as before, and even than it seems almost gray in the incredibly dim surroundings.

A strange broken yet rhythmic beat drums of my ears. Light thudding riddles my mind, but I cannot make out what it is. _You need to look closer at the black mess below. He will be distraught._ What? Even as I squint now, I cannot…oh no…

That is no simple black layer of black coating. It moves slowly, yet definitely from here. Tiny white objects bobble perfectly to the step I hear. Glinting metal shines from amidst the sea of darkness…

An army of unbelievable proportions is marching north. Marching north to a beat of death's own drumming hands. Marching north…to a large, glowing structure.

The Coliseum.

Ahead is a large, illuminated opening. From here I can see movement, and with every passing second it grows larger and brighter. Miniature figures shift at an opening the many mountains give. These same mountains feed south, down a great sloping climb and through fields of spiky rock formations.

The rocks jut into the sky and collect light from the pulsing clouds. They cover the mass of this almost lifeless, cold region of death. They give only a few courses to march, but give plenty to the Coliseum. These rocky mountains wind, twist, and bend a snaky path for advance.

The dark, sickening paths have no place for the beautiful Coliseum. It is a bright, illuminated wound, a sore amongst these lands. And, like blood through a vein, the armies are being directed to the fresh break of normality. They are rushing through darkness to crash against the shining crack in dark flesh or these horrible lands. They are riding to clot the flow of light. They are moving, thousands of them, and a force drives them unyielding.

The march of the damned. The march…of the fallen.

"Hug the mountain, lad, hug the mountain!" My rider shouts to the other.

I throw a glance back, and notice he is doing perfectly. We shift high above the moving army, but we will not stay unnoticed forever. Second by second the Coliseum grows larger and grander. Second by second the mountains diminish in grandeur, and we soon find ourselves descending towards the ground.

Thankfully, we slip into a small break between two peaks and fly unseen towards the now enormous structure. White banners rise from the brown, circular building. From either side are long, short, straight walls that together triple the length of the building.

Light seems to build from the walls themselves, and you can almost feel Tirion's guiding hand waiting for us. You can almost feel his strength and courage within every brick. You can almost…

We whip over the slope that the army approaches. Hundreds of Scourge already advance towards the base, and begin their slow ascension as they wait for the bulk of the force. At the front I catch a glimpse of a figure with white hair. Black armor clad to his body. A portion of his shoulder seems broken.

The Herald. Jon Chapel Lightbreaker.

Quickly we shoot over the army and smoothly float over a mass of soldiers. To the left of the main road into the Coliseum rest a good hundred of soldiers clad in blue, yellow, and white. Lions sprinkle the chest and shields of the soldiers.

To the right are green, blue, and all sorts of colored warriors embracing a black and red combination of colors. A black "H" rests on their flags that flutter. At the rear of the force is a familiar figure wearing yellow, spiky shoulders.. Thrall. _You remembered! He did! _To his side is a shorter, brown skinned orc with equally as mud colored armor to match. Two twisted axes rest in his angry appearing hands.

We sweep over the unnoticing and preparing forces and guide towards the left side. There a tall man with black hair slicked to a long ponytail stands with two, massive blades in each hand. A scar runs across his face, and he seems familiar. _You don't know that is the King Wrynn? He isn't alone there, I didn't know._

Next to him stands the elegant, blond hair, blue-eyed lady that is Jaina. Together they shout orders at the gathering blue and yellow troops. _You know those are alliance. He knows the red and black fellows are horde._ Yes, of course.

No one below notices us as we slow, bounce towards a wide, short tent and trot calmly to a stop. The rider quickly leaps from his bird and heads towards the alliance forces.

"Sorry, lad, battle is calling!" He shouts back as he runs. "Meet ya'on the field, lad!"

Nathanos' driver does the same, and we are left staring at each other. After a second of confused awkwardness we jump from the birds and they naturally slip into a few posts at the side of the building.

"Well, this a way to great someone as great as I." He pauses to flick his wrist at me, "Of course, you are important too. Someone should welcome you as well, Worm."

I glare at him, and suddenly, a familiar, welcoming voice bellows.

"Hope! I didn't think you were coming!"

Just as a make a full rotation, Jessica slams into me, letting her arms wrap to my body. Quickly, and a bit bemused, I hug back before she lets go of me.

"Uncle Carlin, Mark, and I arrived here a few hours ago. We flew to Dalaran and instantly were taken to the northern gates here." She motions back to a bloody patch of snow that leads into the mountains. "We have been fighting since then."

She stops to catch a breath, "His old body isn't fairing so well, but that is ok. He is still alive."

"Hey, don't you be mocking this old, yet strong frame." Carlin leans back to crack his spin as the large Mark moves next to him.

The young giant slaps Carlin rather hard on the shoulder and smiles. Carlin looks up to him and shakes his head disappointingly. Mark smiles in response before he looks to me and nods. He is always so quiet_. You said it. He speaks less than us. You know that isn't saying much. He is right._

Carlin sighs and looks at the Coliseum briefly, "Well, anyway, welcome to the Crusader Coliseum." He looks back to us, "Not much remaining after Arthas smacked the bottom out of it."

Nathanos whips to Carlin, "What do you mean 'not much remains?' We were told that Tirion was going to have Hope fight here!"

Carlin lifts one eyebrow, "Strange, there is a massive tunnel where the main floor used to be. Heroes haven't fought here for some time. So I was told."

He looks at the forces behind us, "Actually those soldiers you see there are the bulk of the worthy combatants."

"What?!" Nathanos' voice rises insanely, "There is no way that meager force can storm the citadel! Hell, I don't even know what it looks like, but that isn't nearly enough!"

I twist to see the force, and notice a pair of booming eyes and another set of raging red rubies glancing at me. Quickly Sylvanas scurries across the path and marches straight towards me. Thrall takes notice to the woman's movement and begins in my direction. Sadly, at the same time Jaina motions to the King Warmy and they too begin their focused march to me.

Great…attention. _You know how much you love that! He does ever so much._

A strong grip shoots through my arm, and I suddenly find myself moving towards them rather quickly. I look to see Nathanos almost running as he drags me. I am not certain what he is hoping to accomplish, but we are certainly rushing at the approaching leaders.

"Hope, we are going to get to the bottom of this, right now!" Nathanos speaks…wait, did he just call me Hope? _You heard it! He wasn't acting crazy or anything!_

We shuffle past the advancing Jaina and King, and they cannot help but throw strange glances our way. As I move I attempt to shrug and communicate verbally, but I am lost in Nathanos' plot to speak.

In a hurry I find myself in front of Sylvanas, Thrall, the angry brown Orc, and exactly in the center of both armies. Thank you, Nathanos, for placing me exactly where I wanted to be. Center of attention right here. _You better not hit on someone! He better keep his cool._

"You daft warriors of whatever faction you call your babysitter, here stands Hope Blackwood, the Light Bringer! He has been summoned by Tirion Fordring himself to fight in your foolish trial, and so he shall!"

He spins me as he moves,

"Now, where might this challenge be?!"

Nathanos, I hate you so very…much.

A deep, commanding voice booms from my left. "Who are you, you pompous undead filth? And why…wait…" The King Whipy squints at Nathanos before continuing, "Nathanos Marris? I thought I had you killed."

The grip falls as the undead locks eyes with the King Worm. _You know it is Wrynn. He knows, Wrynn, Wrynn!_ Ok, ok!

"Terribly sorry to displease you so, but you failed. Miserably. How about you send real champions and not wriggling maggots, hmmm?"

"Why you daft, insulting insect!"

"Hey, don't you talk to my commander in such a tone, you ugly, moronic human!" Sylvanas slips to Nathanos' side.

"If you strike, Lady, then I shall join to bathe in his demise!" The angry brown orc shifts next Sylvanas and shoves me to the side.

Thrall's glinting armor gleams as he makes next to the brown orc, "Control yourself, Garrosh, Lady Sylvanas! Tirion would not approve of such foolishness!"

"Listen to Thrall, Wrynn, this is not what Tirion would want!" Jaina moves to the King and he looks to her.

"Tirion?" King Wrynn shifts to the young woman, "You speak of him so highly, yet in the moment of greatest turmoil, where is he?"

Garrosh, the brown orc, I believe, grunts and shakes his head, "As much as it burns my soul to say this, I must admit…this filthy human makes a point."

What in the world is going on? How did we go from standing calmly to yelling at each other? It is as if the world itself has become like my very mind! As I begin to wander into said cavern, the figures begin shouting louder and angrier. _You have no idea what is going on. He is better to escape here._

Even as I try to escape here, I can hear them. They are so angry, so bitter, so violent. About what? About each other's existence? They are bothering me! They are bothering my focus! They need to stop!

"Enough!" My voice whips uncontrollably upon the frozen, warring air. "Stop with your idiotic, dim-witted, childish bickering!"

My body spins and thrashes, "I cannot even escape to the swirling torment of agony that is my mind with you jabbering tools!"

One by one I glare at them, "No wonder Tirion left you all behind, all of you are fools. There is an army marching up the very slopes of your land, and all you can do is turn blade to the man that is supposed to be holding your shield?!"

King Wrynn, then to Sylvanas, past to Garrosh, and finally to Nathanos, "Tirion didn't come here because he found it better suited to fight at the foot of the Citadel itself! At least there he could fight with troops that understand what is truly happening!"

Chest pounds rapidly. Mind races uncontrollably. Thoughts mangle within my skull as veins pressure and swell with adrenaline. Everyone stands silent. Everyone stands speechless. Everyone stands as still as statues. _You scared them. He did, finally._

I draw air in heavily then release.

"That would be impossible boy." A deep, raspy and almost inhuman voice crackles upon the still air.

"My death knights and I recently departed the base of the Dark Fortress. Overwhelming Scourge numbers burst from all directions. Nerubians from the south, giants from the north; only a force of stubborn Horde and Alliance troops remained. Suicide, if you ask me."

I slowly turn. Black armor drapes the bulk of the man as heavily as the hood upon his head. Pockets of dark, murky cloud bursts from his mouth as he breathes deeply. Blue flames billow from beneath his cloth covering. Two separate blade handles stick from his back.

"You must be mistaken, boy."

I hesitate before responding, "No, Tirion took to the fortress. Nathanos here saw it as well." I do not look to see if the undead man replies.

The rather terrifying man takes a step towards me, "Then it would seem Tirion Fordring marched straight into his own demise."

Another step.

"He willingly assaulted the fortress."

Only yard away.

"There is but one conclusion to his ignorance."

Blue eyes beam down to me.

"Lord Tirion Fordring, commander of the Argent Crusade, hero amongst men, is no more."

"Lies!" Thrall approaches the man angrily, "Darion, Tirion would never do something so foolish!"

The man called Darion comes closer, drawing his face to mine. Dark, yet calm eyes call to me. Gently pores hold all signs of evil, yet do not bare the mark of damnation. He is a death knight, but still retains his humanity. _You helped set many free. He is free on his own accord._

"Tirion lost sight in the blind ambitions of your factions. He blurred your sides into one single unit of cooperation, yet all you could were outlines." He glares inquisitively at me, "So he did what was necessary for victory…"

"If you speak the truth, then we are lost." King Wrynn speaks softly.

"Stay you tongue, human! We horde need not your cowardice ways! Our strength will shatter this army, and drive to the heart of Icecrown by ourselves!" Garrosh steps behind me and towards the king.

King Wrynn shifts angrily in the corner of my vision, "Fool, you filthy pigs wouldn't be able to roll down this hill before you got winded!"

Weapons unsheathe behind me, "Tirion isn't here to protect you, human!" Footsteps fill the air. "Feel my wrath, King!"

"Garrosh, no!"

"Wrynn, stop!"

Blades clank wildly behind. Unheard voices call for peace, but the smell of blood is already laden upon the air. Blue eyes stare to me still, and I do turn to see the rapidly increasing uproar.

Warriors of both sides scream and shout as armor crashes and breaks upon the frozen ground. Cries of foolish ignorance fill the air, but I do not focus. Darion simply looks at me, and I cannot help but gaze back.

His lips flinch before sundering, "What did he see in you, boy?"

I narrow my sight and boom confidence as I speak, "He saw…"

I pause, "The light. The confusion. The blind ignorance. He saw…me"

Oddly a smile forms on his face. "Hope. Very cute, very cute." Suddenly he shifts and points at a large, brown container side of the coliseum.

"He told me when you came that that was for you. I did not know what it meant at the time, nor do I now." He looks back. "How about you show me?"

Almost baffled I gaze at the death knight. Without looking I draw a key from my pocket. My eyes navigate downwards, and for a brief second, sounds of feuding warrior fill the air. Crashing bodies slam into each other as fleeing Carlin, Mark, and Jessica move from the mess.

In a hurry I take to my feet. A long, brown case lies before me. A key rests in my hand. Factions feud as an army marches. The light dims each passing second, and all I can see is the gathering shadows.

Tirion, what are we to do? We have lost ourselves, and all there is this chest. _You should open it. He should._

I lower to my knees. Snow crushes gently beneath my slowly chilling flesh. I wipe pockets of ice from the top of the casing before I glance to the small hole below. Carefully I spin the metallic jaw in my hand.

I let its sharp edges remind me of the skirmishing behind. I let its dark hue remind me of the dark army closing in. I let its smooth edges remind me of the better days. I let its glint remind me of a man we all need.

Tirion, wherever you are, pray for us.

We need a miracle.


	12. Chapter 12: Trials of the Crusaders

CLICK, CLICK, CLICK

Teeth slide into the small chest.

CACLING

My fingers grip and turn firmly. Slowly and carefully I lift the edges of the casing. Snow breaks from the seal and drifts down. Anxiety pulls to my core. Nervousness draws to my veins. Fear claws at my flesh.

Take a breath, Hope, take a breath.

Open it!

With a mighty heave, I break and lift the heavy lid. A puff of odd, dramatic dust wafts from the chest followed by a bright glow. As the shine fades, a glinting piece of metal calls back to me.

An arched chunk of iron slants at the top and juts down to form the tip of the blade. An orange and white "L" shaped hand-guard connects the blade to the white and orange-stripped handle.

At the very bottom is a large, yellow-cored, circular pommel. As I look back to the blade, I see strange markings etched into the side. Above the markings and on the spine of the blade is a small indentation that holds a floating piece of solid gold.

A palm of a hand is carved delicately into the hovering disc. The gold piece glints as brightly as Tirion's armor. The entire mess, all the portions, is a sword. There is simply a sword in here. _You fool, that is not just a sword. He did not just call that a simple sword!_

Carling gasps loudly before weakly emitting, "Ashbringer…"

Ashbringer? What is that? _You fool, that is the weapon! He is going to get mentally strangled!_

"Tirion didn't take it with him…he…" Carlin pauses, "…why didn't he take it?"

It is then I see a strange tan colored portion of the blade, and I instantly know that is out of place. Quickly I reach, grab the object, and draw the card to my face. This side is blank, but I see writing as I flip it.

At first the words enter my mind and scatter to almost functionless blocks in my brain. After a second and a deep breath I glare at the paper and the words begin to flow readily.

"Boy, what does it say?"

Darion speaks, but I continue to stare at the paper. Another pocket of air is drawn; I calm myself and focus. It is then I am able to concentrate long enough to speak…

"When all is lost, this blade will stand firm amongst the greatest of man. It will hear the call of the strong and break the weak. But with its many strengths, it is not infallible; this blade will not sway the masses nor guide the blind. Where I failed, Light Bringer, you must succeed.

My fingers begin shaking, "You must succeed with honor and dignity. With pride and for justice."

I pause briefly, "Succeed, Hope. Bring the faith to the misled warriors of our time. Bring them the faith I found in you. Bring it to the populace. Sway them. Guide them. Unite them. That is the trial that I lifted upon your shoulders, and is the burden for you to bear. Only you can dare carry it, only you can dare fulfill it."

I fight back tears as I read the last line, "To my dear Hope. With love, your loyal follower, Tirion."

The card slips from my hand, wafts in the chilling breeze and slides into the snow. Wind gathers and glides the fine crystals over the top of parchment as a lone salty pool flickers from the edge of my nose. Carefully I watch as it sails upon the icy air, but does not freeze. Carefully I watch as it floats down, but does not turn to ice. Carefully I watch as it hits and fades into the paper.

Snow drifts over the words and fades the wisdom out of existence.

"He didn't take it…" Darion pauses briefly to take a deep breath, "…because he wasn't planning on coming back."

Carlin kneels besides me, letting his hands run the course of the blade as his tears glide the wrinkles of his face. He does not speak as he delicately touches the finely crafted blade. Jessica whimpers, her hands trying to cover her saddened expression -- she fails miserably.

Darion looks down upon the blade as I gaze halfheartedly at the case. What do we do? _You do what you always do. He does what he has a dozen times before_. What? _You stand stall. He stands grand! You rise confused! He will rise focused!_

Slowly I stand. Snow has packed hard upon my knees. My armor has grown heavy as the day has worn on. Cries of still clashing heroes break my sanity. Heat gathers at all edges of my helmet and blur my vision.

My arms rise upward. As I continue looking down, my fingers clamp to the sides of the metal. Slowly, gently, I lift the heavy coffin from my head and slip to down. It blocks my sight, and I am forced to look upon it.

For some uncontrollable reason I flip it in my hands until the face that once looked out now gazes back in. Cuts in the front of the plate allow for eyesight while a narrow gap allows for breathing. A perfectly crafted piece of a metal of the standard soldier…

But it is not me.

As I gaze upon the armor, something burns within. A strange warm sensation burns on all edges of my being and fuels my now chilling head. Matted hair sticks firmly to my face. Darkness stares back at me from within the now hollowed helm.

That is not me…

My eyes drift down at my body. Leather clings to my pants and gathers to my waist. Plate draws upwards and turns to a beautiful white and black concoction of colors. The same pattern rings in the shoulder plates. But they do not appear on the helmet.

It is not me…

With a swift flick of the wrist I drag the metal from me, hold it in the air briefly, and let it fly. It shifts only a few feet before descending, bouncing, and landing firmly. Burning energt fuels me again. Lips quiver wildly.

We cannot stand here. _You get the idea! He shall embrace the light!_

Quickly I turn. The sight of yellow, blue, black and red fills my vision. Heroes fight heroes. Fools battle fools. Leaders lead nothing. Let them have their ignorance. Swiftly I march head long into the fray.

"Boy, where are you going?" Darion yells back to me as I near the border.

Before I reach the fray, I stop, turn, and look back to the death knight.

"To stop an army."

At that I rotate forward and press onward. Arms clank into my armor. Clothing clings to my flesh. Bones hit my side, but I keep moving.

"Worm?"

I ignore the undead man, and let the burning fuel guide me. Ducking and dodging I sway through the frenzy of slashing limbs and battering body parts. Sudden arms lock me in place, but I do not stop.

Bursts of pain surge, but I do stop. Burning deeper now. Faster I move. Bodies shift past, arms try to hinder, but I continue on focused and determined. Heated, raging power rushes through all my pores.

Bursting from the pack, the warmth of the fighting living is chilled by the burning blare of a thousand scourge minions. _You must continue. He will use the rage for good!_

I detour hard to the right, grab a short banner and rip it from the ground. As I reposition back to the center of the road, I lift the oddly heavy stick over my head and glide it down into my armor. Not comfortable, not perfect, but it will do.

Light reflects from the armor that I wear. White burns brightly for my enemies. Black symbols spell their defeat from my chest. Black symbols mark the scourge's end from my shoulders. Black symbols spell justice as the flag wafts over my head.

Reaching back, I grab my shovel and lift it forward. Focus, Hope, focus. Light burns from the tip of my spade. Humming fills the air. Illuminated tendrils spell death for the enemies.

"Herald, you will not set foot on these lands!"

Flash.

BRURSH

Snow and dirt burst from the ground. A dozen bodies fly in all directions. Weapons clank against rocks. They break so easily. Alas, as the cloud clears, more scourge fill the places of the many lost. Looks like I am going to have to try a little harder. Light, hum…

"Light Bringer, you cannot stand before the might of the Scourge." Jon shouts, "Lay your weapon down; obey the master. Let these fools bicker. Let them die their deserving deaths. Let their ignorance be their end."

I glare firmly. Burning energy courses beneath my flesh. Pumping adrenaline feeds me. A smile sweeps my face and my weapon glows brighter.

" You lost me at 'lay down your weapon.'"

Flash, flash, flash.

BRURSH, BRURSH, BRURSH

The front wall turns to a white powdery mess. Black bits and red chunks mix with the aerial cocktail. In flash all it fades, and strange, speedy monsters emerge. They leap wildly across the field, but they do not intimidate me!

"Come, Scourge, I will take all of you by myself!"

Jon steps forward, turns his shoulder to me and points, "Leapers, crush this insolent fool!"

Hum, flash, hum, flash.

BRURSH, BRURSH

Enemies fall, and speedy monsters collapse, but they are fast. I missed two of the closer ones. Do not miss again, Hope!

Flash

BRURSH

Scurrying limbs continue forward. Two more lay broken, but four more have replaced them. They are nearing fast.

What sickly monsters. A cloth bag is hold together by a broken noose around their heads. A slit reveals beneath a lone, locking eye. It appears as if a hung man lumbers forward, one orb of sight left to search out the vengeance it so desires.

A harsh, disgusting sound rattles the air as they screech. They are too close. I will have to bring them down with my blade…

TWANG, TWANG, TWANG, TWANG

Black missiles glide perfectly and true. Charging, noose-wearing undead collapse one after one. The arrows pierce them deeply, rendering them lifeless in a flash. Two more approach, but are ended fast.

I do not need to turn to know who walks up behind me.

"Looks like we are charging ahead of the pack again, eh, Worm?"

Nathanos comes into sight. A bow lifts to his shoulder and he reaches back. Oddly he flinches and throws a look over his shoulder.

"Blast, I forget to buy arrows." He recoils the bow and calls forth the might of his twisted axes, "Looks like I am getting personal for this one."

Three more bag-headed monsters leap ahead. Snow digs beneath their claws. A shovel rises to meet them. Glow, hum, flash.

_BRURSH._

One is torn asunder, but the other two continue charging. Gasping lungs excrete terrible emissions of sound. Watery eyes on each one lock upon their nearing target. Blades pull to the sides of the two heroes waiting for the attack.

Feet at the ready.

Suddenly a figure appears at the left edge of my vision. I do not know how I missed it, but the blue, lifeless giant barrels at me. There is no way I can stop both attacks. From the other side of my sight Nathanos locks firmly as he too faces the same dilemma.

"Worm," Nathanos shifts forward, "Bring the little Leaper down first!"

Without hesitating my feet shuffle forward. The twisted fiend is caught off guard by the sudden advance, and stumbles. Fool. Over my head and back down, my blade collides with the small head.

Clanking and sounds of cracking skulls fills the air. The beast stirs for a moment before it twitches its last twitch. Nathanos swiftly dispatches of his assailant, and I lose sight of him as I spin to the giant.

I prepare for a mighty clash of heavy weaponry. My legs lock for a grand strike. My eyes shift to see a terrible foe to face. But as I turn I am surprised by what I see. The blue figure lays cracked on the ground. Limbs limp and body numb.

Standing over him is a man in white and gray armor. A bald spot gleams on the top of his hairless head. A shield is no longer present on his body. Glowing light radiates from his body as the new extension shines brightly. An extension made of metal and holy power.

Ashbringer…

The old man must have picked up the sword, and now wields it as his own. I am not know the true significance of that weapon, but if Tirion once held it, and now Carlin does, then it is a blade to fear. _You are correct. He needs a pop-up history book._

The old man turns and smirks, "Sorry, Hope, I couldn't let this go to waste." He shifts forward, "Would be a shame to let the Scourge forget the power of this blade!"

Leaping forward he moves faster than ever. Swift limbs glide between two advancing foes. Finely maneuvering arms direct the blade elegantly, perfectly, and directly. The enemies do now know what struck them.

I turn back forward and watch ghouls and skeletons begin their attack. Dozens of them advance. I turn to see if Nathanos needs aid. Axe blades crack skulls of giants while a large friend of our own holds back two monsters by himself. With a swift lift of his shield, and a slash of his blade they fall, leaving only Mark behind.

The man stands triumphant before rushing between Nathanos and I. Again he throws me a nod before he furiously faces forwards. His eyes navigate beyond the marching weak warriors. His eyes lock onto a man clad in solid black. His eyes lock…with his brother.

Mine, however, are still focused on the nearing troops. There are definitely a good number of them. We are outnumbered ten to one. _You do not need numbers. He needs to think like Nathanos, more is better regardless of side!_

Again my blade locks in my hands. Footsteps rumble from the now charging enemies. Cries of foolish skirmishing continue behind us. Screeching undead move in closely. Hold firm, Hope. Hold firm.

Shovel at the ready. Feet locked. Enemies upon us.

My shovel shifts smoothly around. Slashing light collides with attacking enemies. White bones break while black armor crumbles. One, two, three. Enemies fall to my might. Multiple foes mangle to the light of the Ashbringer. Dozens fall to the combined strength of the Nathanos and Mark.

A skeleton attacks from my left. Down and out. Ghouls strike from my right. My arm stops it in…another from my side. He falls. Another. Both arms tangled. A ghoul latches to my right while my left grips a skeleton.

Foul breath radiates from the fleshless bone structure. Blue fumes bathe my arm as the beast snaps at me. A third addition appears in front of me. Its blade at the ready, shield bracing for attack. If only I had three arms…

Closer it draws. I cannot break my arms free. My chest is exposed. Closer. Eyes divert to the left. Then draw to the right. Finally they lock ahead. Only yards away. Hope, think of something. Tug your arms, free them.

Harder I pull, but they are latched.

Come on, Hope!

With a last mighty jerk, I feel the skeleton go limp, and my left arm is free. My hand grabs the blade rising over the frontal skeleton's head. I smirk as the warrior glares at me. With a swift kick I knock his legs completely out from under him and watch as his arms break from his body.

With my hand free I reach over, crush the skull of this worthless ghoul with my bare palm, and wriggle my shovel free. It squirms for only a moment longer before I end its miserable existence.

Spinning to my right, I see a skeleton resting at feet, and a strong soldier at my side.

"What?" Jessica smirks at me, "Did you think I was going to let you and uncle have all the fun?"

I smile at her, and look past her to see more gray and white warriors climbing from the pass and moving to Carlin. The old man battles back four enemies simultaneously. Bodies break at his might.

A thing of splendor, that sword. Warriors that bring significance and symbolism to the blade rush to its glowing call.

"Argent warriors, to the Ashbringer!" Half a dozen of the black symbol bearing individuals scurries to Carlin's side.

I twist and watch as equally as many scramble to the Nathanos' side. Skeletons and ghouls are overwhelmed, maimed, and crushed by the sheer number of ready warriors. Within seconds the wave is stomped out of existence, but the fight is far from finished…

"Abominations. Vrykul," Jon raises his blade forward, "bring these pathetic fools the dark revelation."

Dozens of lumbering, blue and white giants advance within unholy speed. Pink, three armed blobs shift through the masses. Purple, blue and red entrails dangle from the exposed stomach of the massive figures. Malformed legs shake the very ground as they lumber forward.

The ground begins to shake as the numerous large combination of foes advances. Heroes once again prepare for the fight. Warriors lock at the ready. Limbs buckle and break as the creaking undead attack.

"To the death, brothers!" Carlin cries loud as welcomes the inhospitable giant.

Light, hum, flash.

A giant is torn in two, and another is vaporized. Arms swing and trash. Giants fall. Heroes scream. Sounds of war envelope all of us. My legs shift back and forth wildly. Arms dance a dance of death for my foes.

All sight becomes limited as blocking bodies overwhelm me. Limbs break from torsos as my blade crashes. Enemies collapse as Nathanos attacks unyielding. Abominations crumble and collapse to the might of the Ashbringer.

CLING

Shovel stops an attack. Sweeping down, it slices through the large knees. The enemy falls, revealing another behind. Organs slip across the pinkish flesh. Bones jut outwards. Three arms lock and raise overhead. An abomination. _You need to move! He needs to defend._

Before I can move, a blur whips overhead. A black figure leaps directly over me and collides with the massive beast. The impact forces the monster back, but the whipping blades finish the transaction. Blood pours from the gaping wounds, revealing deep, deadly strikes. The man leaps from the body and lets it crash backwards.

Powdery dust radiates from his smoothly landing feet. Hurriedly he spins and gazes upon me.

"Boy, your suicidal assault is unbelievable." He turns and crushes two giants, "To single handedly attack a vast army? Crazy, stupid, reckless."

He comes to my side and looks firmly at me, "Doing what is needed to be done. At any cost." Oddly a smile breaks across his face, "I now know what Tirion sees in you."

His face breaks from mine as he lurches backwards.

"Knights of the Ebon Blade, vengeance is at had!" He spins, whips a weapon at the enemy and proclaims, "Bring fear to the Scourge!"

Cries echo from behind. My head twists and I see men of all sorts climb around the foolish skirmishing mass. Large, glowing weapons hang heavily in the hands of the dozens of advancing warriors. All of them are death knights. All of them are joining us in grand battle. All of them ready. All of them bearing a large, blue outline of a blade.

Ebon Knights.

The warriors charge speedily down the slope. Feet lock before leaping. Armor clanks as lunging warriors collide with giants. Soldiers tumble in all directions. Scourge soldiers collapse, break, but more continue the onslaught. Even with the addition of the death knights, their numbers too vast.

I step backwards and take in the sight. The front line curls backwards, buckling at a small area. Scourge warriors open the tear, pouring through sickeningly, and in vast numbers.

The scourge has divided us again, and now marches to the ignorant fools on the hill.

I watch as the lumbering giant, covered completely in solid black armor, leaps through sundering line. Behind him are two speedy leapers. More ghouls climb through the break in the line. Their lunging legs barrel past all the outnumbered warriors. Their gathering strength aimed at unprepared alliance and horde…

Strength fused through an axe aimed for the locked Wrynn and Garrosh.

My legs drive me forward. Feet shift through the snow. Muscles secrete acid as fuel is burned. The two are unprepared. They must be warned. _You must do it. He will!_

"Wrynn…Garrosh!" Their eyes navigate to me and then to the giant. "Look out!"

Locked weapons shift. Mighty arms turn to stop the assaulting giant. Blades clank against blades. The first strike is stopped, but the giant grips the orc and whips him back into the advancing scourge. The king holds firm, but he too is thrown high and in my direction. Both arch in the sky briefly before descending, slamming, and bouncing in the snow.

Leapers and ghouls scurry to the downed warriors. They are not prepared!

Light, hum, flash.

BRURSH

Ghouls are torn apart.

Flash.

Leapers are scattered from the King.

I spin to the slowly filling hole in the front line. Flash, flash, flash. _BRURSH, BRURSH, BRURSH. _Enemies are blown back, allowing for knights to quickly feed to the now clear opening.

I spin back and watch Garrosh fight with two leapers simultaneously. He overpowers the weak fools easily. Sadly, he is not aware of the towering giant calmly approaching him from behind.

An axe lifts to the monster's side, rises over his head.

"Orc, let the dark fill your soul! Let it guide you as it has so willingly I." Garrosh spins, but it is too late. "Let it show you true power!"

My blade lifts, glows, hums…

I smirk, "Fool, obviously your have been blind." He looks to me, "Here, let me give you a taste of the might the Light gives you. Catch."

Flash.

He is unable to move; the swirling ball collides directly in the man's chest. Armor breaks from his body as he shoots rearwards. Limbs lock forward as he arches back down. With a dull thud he bounces on the ground before going limp.

I walk to the orc. His eyes are wide and a baffled expression sweeps his face. From the corner of my eyes I see Wrynn climb to his feet and march to Garrosh. The orc rests on one knee.

"Human…" He speaks softly, "Why didn't you let the enemy take his kill? I was weak…blind."

I shrug, "I didn't know he had killed you yet." I scratch my head.

Wrynn chuckles, "Orc, it would seem that a human just saved your miserable hide."

He stands ominously over the orc.

Garrosh looks to him and frowns, "Finish what must be done, human. I have failed. Weakness curses my veins…"

Wrynn stands firmly. Rage burns from his eyes. Anger is buried in his body. He shifts his blades in his hand, and oddly…extends his hand outwards.

Garrosh eyes it and blurts, "Human, what are you doing?"

"Finishing what must be done."

Garrosh looks at me then to the scourge army. An expression of horror sweeps his face as he takes in the battling heroes and vast scourge army. Reluctantly he takes the hand and lets the King pull him to his feet.

"Orc, I do believe I have seen enemies far uglier than you." He too looks at the Scourge, "And they fill me with more hatred than you ever could."

Garrosh grunts, "Fool, my rage dwarves your puny emotion! My horde will crush twice as many scourge as your alliance!"

Wrynn lets go of his hand and frowns, "Twice as many? My alliance will clear this hill before your men can even catch up!"

They both glare angrily at each other, so cannot help but clear my throat, "Well? What are you two waiting for then? There are plenty for both your supposedly amazing armies."

Both look oddly at me. For a moment they stare bemused and lost.

"Come on, chop chop, first to rally is first to kill." Again I speak.

Garrosh grunts at me and spins quickly. "Warriors of the horde!"

"Soldiers of the Alliance!" Wrynn matches to yell after him.

"Gather your strength!" Garrosh speaks.

"Stop the pointless feud with the horde!" Wrynn.

"Turn from the puny alliance!"

"Face the armies of the Scourge!"

In unison the two manage to shout, "Charge! Crush the undead beneath your boots!"

The armies step back from the opposite faction. Humans break from orcs and dwarves break from the knees of trolls. Warriors spin and face the struggling heroes below. They watch ideally as their confusion turns to rage.

"Sons of Durotar, attack!" Thrall yells from near the coliseum.

"Children of the Alliance, fight for great honor!" Jaina shouts.

Following their final calls, chants of battle cries and rumbling feet fills the air. Hundreds of once blind heroes rush down the slanting slope. Hundreds of misled warriors now lead their fury properly. Hundreds of heroes finally bring aid to the few strong.

Suddenly Jon's voice breaks the rising battle cries, "Minions of the Lich King…end them!"

A rising rumble fills the air. The vast sea of black armor shifts forward. Purple banners mingle above the shuffling army. Bones glint in the dark light. Blue smoke billows from all the enemies. A last, desperate maneuver, but all the scourge might is no match for the fury unleashed upon them…

Weapons clash against weapons. The speed and fury of the heroes overwhelms the advancing scourge. Trampling feet crush their frail forms, and mash their decaying organs.

As I watch I hear a loud rumbling coming from the mountains. My vision shifts, and I am startled as two, massive balloons appear from over the ridge. Strong, heavy metal strands extend from the said blimps and connect to an equally as large wooden frame.

At the same time this one appears, another giant, wooden flying machine breaks from the side of the same mountain. Gray propellers line the bottom and sides of this ship, and giant, gold lion heads blare from the sides.

Two ships…one for each faction. Guns line all sides of the ships. In a flash they soar towards the armies. In a hurry they drive within range of sea of the damned. And with a spectacle of flashes and grand explosions, their weaponry rains their full fury upon the enemy.

BRURSH, BRURSH, BRURSH, BRURSH. Brurshbrurshbrursh….

Pillars of snow, dirt, and flame rip into the heart of the Scourge force. Weapons whip into the air. Bodies fly lifelessly in all directions. Armor rips and shreds off of the bones of enemies.

Quickly I spin from the sight and glare at the two leaders closest to me.

"Wait, why didn't you send these to begin with?"

Wrynn winces and scratches his head, "Well, prior orders rendered my vessel disposed…."

Garrosh grunts, "That worthless machine assaulted the Horde's grand design! No weak human ship would destroy the horde's!"

Wrynn spins, but Jaina beats him to the punch, "If you two start again, I am going to freeze you both in place!"

Wrynn looks to the ground and Garrosh spins from the woman. I, however, sigh and look back to the field. Scourge forces begin to break in all directions as the combined ground and aerial might begin crushing the vast army.

"Pinky!" Suddenly a voice calls from overhead, "Pinky!"

My eyes divert upward and I watch the lumbering behemoth that is Skippy's ship glide over the cliff near me and aim for the top of the slope. It rotates around, and I see the tiny green man looking to me.

"Where is Baldy and Bony?"

Before I can say a thing Carlin replies, "Right here, you daft goblin."

I spin and see Carlin and Jessica marching back up the hill. They move rather quickly, but appear oddly disappointed. From the corner of my eye I watch as Mark helps Nathanos. He is only able to aid the decaying man for a short distance before the disgruntled undead breaks from him and rushes to me.

"Trampled by a cow man! Great way to end a battle." He shakes his head as he nears me, "Worm, why did you get them involved? I was enjoying the slaughterfest!"

He looks down to his body.

"I am pretty sure that stupid cow took a bone or two from me with his fat hooves."

Mark shakes his head and looks upward. A smirk forms on his face, but he dares not let Nathanos see.

Carlin grips the Ashbringer before he sighs, "A gnome tripped me, Marris. A gnome…"

Nathanos chuckles and slaps the old man on the back, "Humiliating, Redpath, humiliating."

"Hey, care to pay attention to the goblin on the ship?" Skippy draws my focus back. "We got some real big problems back at Dalaran."

Jaina takes over, "What do you mean?"

Skippy shrugs, "Well, I may have made some stuff mad. I shot at them, and one thing led to another. Yeah, bad stuff is going down."

"What did you do goblin?" Jaina frowns and crosses her arms.

Again Skippy shrugs at the woman, "You are a mage, open up a portal and go see for yourself!"

She grunts loudly before reaching into her pocket. After a second she whips her hand out and throws powder out from her robes. The fine dust floats downwards. As it drifts it sparkles brightly and suddenly burst into blue flames.

In a flash a haze of blue emerges at her side. The edges of the circular glow sparkling and shine white. In the center is an array of buildings that I have not seen before. It is a portal.

Jaina stares at for a moment. As she does Wrynn shouts to her, "Lady Proodmore, go. I shall clean up this mess and gather our troops for an assault at the Citadel!"

Garrosh smacks his chest and bellows, "Warchief, I shall watch this human to make sure he gains a proper foothold at the Fortress."

Sylvanas sighs and instantly steps through the portal as the two shout at them. I didn't even see her standing there. Odd, I never miss sight of her. _You didn't see her standing behind the other two. He didn't see her raining arrows into the alliance forces earlier?_

As she vanishes, both Thrall and Jaina nod. Jaina steps towards the swirling mess, but she suddenly stops and lets Thrall pass by her. Nathanos rushes towards the portal, but diverts and grips a rope mesh at the side of the Zeppelin. He begins pulling himself up, and Mark follows suit.

Carlin, however, seems baffled by this, "Marris, why aren't you taking the portal? It is faster."

"Faster? Who cares? I hate portals. They make even my briny skin crawl."

I sigh heavily, and rush to the ship. For once, I agree with the undead man. Quickly I climb aboard and help Carlin and Jessica afterward. Once we are all firmly aboard, I turn to and see a strange figure aboard the ship.

Jaina pulls herself over the opposite side and adjusts her dress. I throw her an awkward look and she shrugs at me. I make to speak, but Nathanos blurts loudly.

"Proudmoore, why didn't you take your own portal?"

She shrugs, "I felt compelled to board the ship. Don't ask me why, but I felt it necessary."

Nathanos nods and looks away from her. "Works for me."

As he does, Skippy turns and yells loudly, "What are you all of you doing on my ship?"

Nathanos dusts himself off, "Goblin, you are taking us to Dalaran." Skippy makes to move, but Marris continues, "And if you don't, I am going to eat you. Understand, goblin?"

The tiny green figure blinks a few times than shrugs, "Fair enough."

With a firm jerk the ship shifts to the left and rotates over the battle below. Bodies litter the ground as the mighty heroes crush the Scourge beneath. Once stationed at the middle of the slope, now at the bottom and still advancing. Heavy guns continue rain fury upon the enemy.

Still, as I watch the forces I cannot help but look back to the many lost and scattered across the vast sloping path. Blue banners mingle with red. Yellow clashes with black, and blue rests peacefully near pink.

It is there that all men are equal; it is there where all men are the same. It is there where all men know no boundaries or differences, upon the battlefield, struggling against death itself.

It is there where all are united, for victory or death.

And it was I that united them, Tirion. It will not last forever, but for now. I have completed your task, and by doing so I believe I have done exactly what you wanted and knew I could do. Tirion, you would be proud.

I have completed your trial…


	13. Chapter 13: Upon Guided Wings

Air bends and breaks as the ship careens onward. Armies scatter and flee across the rocky terrain. Dark clouds burst with electrified light as we move. Sparks dance across the bitter black sky. They dance above us as if they are chasing us, as if they guiding us on our path. As if…they are watching us…

"Worm!" I quickly glance down to the undead man before. "We will we arriving in Dalaran shortly."

"Wait, we are that close?"

He nods, "Yes, Dalaran borders Icecrown and is extremely close to the fortress itself."

Jaina chimes in as Nathanos pauses; "It holds a strong, watchful position over the Lich King's Dark Citadel. We have been keeping track of any movement around it."

Marris sighs, "Mages and your plotting. Attack or don't attack. Stop stacking plot after plot on top of an already flat battle plan."

Jaina grunts, "Nathanos, just because you prefer quick, uncoordinated strikes doesn't mean we all do."

"No, just means all of you are fools." He shakes his head, "How long are you planning on sitting within striking distance of the Fortress, yet not at least barraging it with constant annoyances of arcane magics?"

Her eyebrows shift angrily, "As long as it takes to keep ourselves clear of dense thoughts such as that."

"Seems odd, Proudmoore, that with all your mage's power, that you do not dare take risks."

Jaina turns and glares at him, "Risks?" She takes a step in his direction, "I let a man into my heart, I risked all emotion, and what happened?" She narrows her vision, "He killed my mentor, killed the man dearest to me. And then he had that same man's home destroyed."

She pulls her face to his. "Risks? Acts of desperate men. We mages will never be that foolish again."

After a second of brief silence she steps away and heads to the front of the ship.

Nathanos smirks terribly and blurts, "Sounds like the only one taking risks was you."

In a flash she spins, vanishes, and reappears next to him. Flames flicker from her fingers. Rage burns within her soul. An expression spoils her usual calm demeanor. Without warning, she winds back, swings forward…

_PHWACK._

Nathanos reels slightly. Jaina's hand rests at the side of her body. Suddenly, her face contorts and shock floods her expression. She moves to comfort the undead man, but oddly he looks back to her and smiles.

"My dear, I have no feeling left in my face." His hand lifts and rubs the impact spot, "Strange, though, I can still feel some burning. Impressive."

She stammers as she speaks, "Forgive me, Marris…I…I don't know what came over me."

He frowns and quickly draws himself to her, "Simple, my dear. Pain."

His voice lowers to a whisper, "You are not the only one to watch the one you love become your worst nightmare. The pain will kill you from within. I know."

Hurriedly he steps from her and shuffles across the deck. Jaina throws a bemused look at him as he moves. Finally, her face shifts back to the average calm expression, and she moves to his side.

Carlin leans over and whispers, "What was that?"

I shrug and glance to Carlin, "They are not getting enough vitamins?"

Instantly Carlin begins laughing. He seals his mouth and lifts his hand to hide it. After a second he draws in air. He releases it. More air in. Lots of air out. He finally composes himself and stops.

Crazy, old Carlin.

At that I focus back forward. Mountains slowly fade to whiter pastures. Spikes fold to rolling hills. Ahead, is one last black and white jagged structure. Behind it is the same glow that came with the large, strange tree a few hours past.

I cannot help but shout.

"Nathanos, are we heading back into the Crystal…melody…forest?"

He spins and lowers an eyebrow, "Worm, it is Crystalsong Forest." He turns back, "And yes, that is exactly where we are headed."

Confusion sets in. _You better end it before it consumes you. He better not hesitate!_

"Wait, I did not see a city when we were flying through the air. Nothing but ruins littered the ground."

Nathanos chuckles. "Aren't you in for a surprise, eh, Worm? Over this last mountain ahead of us, a big surprise for you."

What is he talking about? There wasn't a city. Is he going crazy again? _You really are in for a surprise. He is going to be shocked. _We approach the mountain. My heart begins to race. Rocks slowly fade to air. Pounding faster. Then, in a flash, we round the…

Blood turns to ice…

Before me, unlike anything seen before, is a massive, flying city.

Tall buildings rise from a large chunk of brown dirt. White, purple, and brown structures line the outer edges of the huge floating soil platform. Gold trim litters the edges of each structure and give a great outline to each building. Spikes of soil hang from the bottom, reaching for the earth they once belonged to.

One key feature that stands out above the rest is a looming tower that hangs over the vast of the city. It is easily four times the height of any of the city's buildings, drawing your eyes from a distant. A fine, purple hue radiates from the surface of this structure. Actually, the entire city seems to be enveloped in this delicate glow.

Upon the tower is a large, green crystal. It floats calmly in the air for a brief second before flashing a bright, lavender color. A rather bright explosion rips from the stone. A spiky tendril of purple, laced with strips of interweaving white, rips towards the blood-chilling anomaly that froze my veins.

To the left of the rising city is a structure that I remember well. A pyramid like anomaly floats ominously at the edge of the purple city. Stone blocks line and build the slanting walls. Skulls are placed upon each side, vomiting green sludge from the gaping mouths.

Spiky black obelisks rise from the top platform, perfectly placed at all corners of the upper platform. At the very pinnacle of the sight, a large jade stone stands in place, churning with burning strands of black, green, and white.

Naxxramas.

Flames bellow from the side of the fortress, as the beam of light shot from the large tower collides with the unholy wall. Large blocks of stone fall from the floating fortress' side. A hole is apparent from his side, but the structure quickly begins rotating to hide its fresh wound.

Suddenly, a flash builds from Naxxramas' stone, and a bolt of energy courses outward. Sparks rain from the purple hue, revealing it as a rather strong magical barrier. _You are a master! He is getting good at this guessing game._

Unexpectedly, another flash bursts, and another green bolt collides harmlessly into the large city's tower cannon. My eyes shift to the right side, and a second horrific sight fills my vision.

Another floating structure darkens the city. It has the same design as Naxxramas, except this one has large bones running down the corners of the main portion; it is as if the bones are the glue to the four walls of this juggernaught.

These bones are massive, leading to spikes at the floating base, and ending at a large jade stone at the top. Another unique feature of this building is a large, blue object that rests in the exact center of the wall facing the city. From here, it almost looks like giant eye with a large, black pupil.

The city is under siege by two, gigantic flying fortresses. _You need to know those are called necropolises. He better know what they are._ Bolts strike from the giant tower of the mage city. Jolts of energy rip into the protective violet wall. Flames rain down from above.

As we near the city, I can see objects circling overhead. Large, skeletal dragons clash against lively red colored dragons of equal size. The giant beasts collide with each other, biting and gnawing ferociously. Red dragons shoot balls of molten fury, while bony, blue dragons vomit clouds of icy death.

One dragon catches my attention completely. It is easily twice the size of any of the others here. The bone structure is completely visible, and is the only true frame of the beast. Patches of hazy blue fiber connect the bones of the wing and tail sections.

Large horns jut from the back of the beast's head. Blue flames fill the corners of its mouth and feed to the heart. The ribs cannot contain the fire, allowing for wafts of blue, infused with pockets of spiraling black and laced with bursting flares of white, to travel from the body. This said fire pours from the body and drizzles upon the violet blanket.

It makes a large, slow circle around the city, occasionally firing a large, blue, black, and white ball of flame from its mouth. Constantly, the massive winged beast looks out from the fight as if searching for something. _You make a very clear point. He must be a relative of the easily distracted dragon._

"See, Jaina. Bad stuff." Skippy shouts as we quickly near the ensuing battle.

"Bad, goblin?!" She grows angry again, "This is unbelievable! Frostwrym dragons…Necropolises? This isn't bad! Your thought process is bad, this is horrible!"

He shrugs, "Well, my bad."

She glares at him, but Nathanos speaks in her stead, "May I ask, Captain, but…how did you manage to draw such a lively bunch of guests to this city?"

"I didn't lure all of it." He points at Naxxramas, "I simply shot at Naxxy a few times. I left and went back to shoot at it some more. The second time around it started chasing me. That or it was headed here, and I was simply leading it. Whichever."

Jaina sighs, "So, you are telling us you didn't provoke the other necropolis nor the dragons?"

"No. Well, maybe a dragon or two, but not that big one. No, I don't recall shooting at that." Skippy scratches his chin.

Again Jaina sighs and looks to the city. With each passing second, the large structure grows larger and larger. With each second, we near the purple shield and the firing walls. With each second we near, but we don't slow nor descend.

"Um, Skippy," I scratch my head, "How do we plan to get from here to down there?"

Again all he does is shrug, "I don't know. Tuck and roll?"

Jaina makes to smack the goblin's head, but manages to control herself. She slowly turns, breaths, and looks at me, "Hope, I will get us down. Don't you worry, we mages do not fear falling."

Nathanos chuckles, "Yes, they prefer the nice splat at the end, instead."

"Enough of you, Marris."

Nathanos puts two fingers together and slides them across his mouth as if sealing it. Jaina quickly reaches into her pocket, grabs for something, and retracts it. Like before, she flicks powder outward, but this time it is directed towards Nathanos. It turns white mid-air and vanishes into a puff around him.

She does this to Mark then to Carlin, Jessica, and finally me. At first the powder does nothing but disappear upon my flesh. Unexpectedly, a strange, tingly feeling rushes across my body. The air wraps around my flesh and clings to it. It feels as if the wind itself has fused with my being.

I feel weightless. _You are heavy as a feather. He will fall like one as well_.

We move to the edge of the ship and prepare for the city. Only a short distance away now. It will not be much longer…

_CARASH._

A loud crash pulls my sight towards Naxxramas. Stones shake from the surface, and the entire structure tilts down slightly. Upon the top of the building, the massive dragon is now perched.

It claws and drags itself to the jade stone on top. There it looks to the left then whips its large head to the right. Trails of blue gusts follow the head loyally. Flames burn from all corners of the mouth that suddenly breaks asunder.

"Alexstrasza! Show yourself, you coward!" The blue fiend shifts upon the stone fortress, puking a horrendously dark, feminine voice. "Do not make me draw you here with the death of a thousand poor souls!"

A second passes and she looks around one last time.

"Fine, may the blood stain even your blood-soaked appearance!"

In a flash she lurches down, latching her massive fangs to the jade stone. Green energy courses through jaw. It flows down her throat and collides with the swirling blue concoction in her chest. A horrific explosion of colors rips from the body as she releases the stone.

Her head twists towards the city, and she draws air in as if out of nature. Releasing from her is a torrent of flame and bathing molten fury. The barrier holds, but creeping flames crawl the walls. The bath continues, and each second it spreads. In moments, half the city is nearly covered by the gathering damnation.

"Cease your sinister deeds!"

Another femininely voice booms into the air. It sounds further away, yet definitely rings a sweeter, calmer tone than the beast prior.

Instantly the dragon stops the flow of dark power and spins atop the fortress. The green hue fades from her body, and a loud, internal chuckle radiates into the air as an equally as large red dragon appears from the hazy clouds ahead of us.

"If you wish to release your rage upon anyone, let it be me." Massive red wings, tinted with a white underside, beat the air, "Sindragosa."

Again the deep, muffled cackle crashes upon the tides of air. As it does, the bone wings of the evil beast, Sindragosa, whip from its body and throw the bulk into the air.

Blue flames fold from the mouths of the dark dragon. Red fire baths the edge of the massive red dragon. The same red fire dances across the side of the ruby dragon's head, shifts across two, curling horns and down the bulky body. Glinting gold chains decorate the beast on the arms and legs.

Simultaneously the two behemoths eject death upon the air. Dark flames, fused of swirling black, build upon a core of navy blue damnation. Red fires caress the epicenter of a gentle red glow

Together they clash, raining a spectacle of deadly fire from the collision. Ignoring the burning wall of stopped fire, the two dragons collide headlong, thrashing and gnawing at each other's body as they move. Red scales flicker from one dragon's body while splinters of bone fall from another.

Then, in a flash, the red dragon soars overhead, forcing shaky air upon our ship as she does. Both circle around the three floating structures. As I look around, I notice the purple barrier fill my sight below me. Tan roads appear beneath the violet hue, and give organization to the buildings.

"Ok, ladies, humans, and stinky dead men, I am not kicking you off my ship, but you can no longer stay here."

Skippy turns and smiles.

Instantly, we shift to the edge of the ship and gaze awkwardly down at the city. Roads lead to a large fountain in the center of the city. Arched stonewalls cross over the streets, forming a square perimeter for the watery spectacle.

Suddenly my focus is broken as Jaina speaks, "Ok, the light feeling should last a few more minutes, so we need to go now."

"Yeah, go, go, get off." Skippy gives us motivation.

I take a deep breath and begin focusing on the jump. Mark, however, doesn't seem to be worried about this crazy endeavor at all; he climbs up and leaps off the railing. The fool, he has nothing to slow his fall! _You need to relax. He is wound tighter than Nathanos during Love Week._

At first I expect the man to plummet to his death, but strangely he catches the air and slowly floats downward. It is as if he is a feather caught in a breeze. _You were told. He wasn't listening._

Another ball of stress builds as he nears the barrier. Again I am expecting him to bounce from the wall, but instead he floats through unharmed. Instantly Jessica squeals.

"Oh, I want to try!"

She hurriedly leaps from the side. Carlin reaches to grab her, but like Mark, she drifts into the air. The old man grunts to himself before leaping after her. Nathanos takes a glance at me and sighs.

"Worm, I do not want to do this, but," He climbs up and jumps, "You are not beating me to it!"

Like the others, he floats towards the city, gently falling to the roads below. A strange knot twists within me, forcing my sight from my city. I look to Jaina, of whom throws me a nod. I glance to city, than to her, city, her. She smiles as she grips the railing and jumps.

I take a deep breath and throw one last look around. Giant, stone structures approach the walls of a shielded city. A white tower fires bolts of purple death at the enemies, while giant dragons fight each other. And, most notably, I catch sight of furry cowman emerging from the bottom level of this Zeppelin, carrying a rather large cylinder with a rocket at the end. _You are looking at a bazooka. He certainly is._

Again I take a deep breath, look to the city, grab the railing and jump. The wind grabs me and I pull towards the city as the Zeppelin barrels away. I move slowly, dragging downward at a slanting path. In seconds I pass through the barrier.

My eyes close slightly as I do. Of course nothing happens, but you never know. _You are a wuse. He is a coward!_ After few short moments, I approach the hobble stone pathways and land gently on my feet.

Buildings rest to my right. The arched pillars near the fountain are to my left. Directly ahead is the base of the massive cannon tower, and the sight of all my currently gathering companions.

I sigh and begin moving towards them.

In the words of Nathanos, 'welcome to Dalaran, Worm.'


	14. Chapter 14: Fall from the Heavens

Soldiers scurry across stone streets. Citizens rush down pathways, flee around bends, and flock to any safe heaven that they can find. Every individual has his or her purpose, and I have mine. I gaze upon a large staircase leading to a magnificent building. _You stare like a baffled man. He does so like a crazy turkey._

I look around for an only moment longer and take to my feet. Worn soles slap against young streets. People run past me, heading in all directions. Their limbs and luggage slap into my body releasing spurts of me. But I do not slow. I dash down this long pass and approach the rather steeply inclined, tall staircase.

At the top, rests the majority of my companions. I cannot see them all, but voices from above radiate calmly down to me. For some odd reason, I cannot help but throw the steps one last glance before lifting my foot.

Gently, carefully, I extend my leg. Tan stone mingles with lacing gray strips. Large walls extend to either side, railings jut upwards for support. Calmly, I begin my ascent up the case. My fingers glide against the incredibly smooth stone railings at the side.

My feet take in every step I take. Eyes scan the surrounding area. Figures from above peer down to me, patiently waiting my slow climb.

Carlin glances down, and I cannot help but look back. I make it half way, and I see him frown. He does not say a word, but I know what he is thinking. I know he knows what I am thinking. We both know…whatever is at top, I am not going to like. _You should, there is candy up there! He should never take candy from strangers._

Figures begin appearing as I near the top. Eyes slide over the top step. Vision is overwhelmed by a collection of people and an array of familiar faces. To the left and right are soldiers waiting calmly for the leadership inside. The platform they stand on circles the structure itself like an odd type of stone patio. _You are close. He is trying._

Ahead of me is the looming cannon tower. Curved walls arch into the vertical walls. Dozens of these quartered spheres rest at the side as decoration. They also encompass the massive doorway that reveals the pack of recognizable individuals.

As I near the final step, I can see Jaina standing in the middle of the crowd. She stands next to Thrall and Sylvanas. She also stands next to a man in dark-gray, cloth armor. Thick red hair rests heavily upon his head, and grows down from his chin as a large, bulky beard.

His face is rather commanding, yet has a strange sense of calmness that radiates from it. Large shoulder pads rise to his ears and outward from his body. Tiny spikes line the bottom of the pads, while a lights beam dimly through large slits on top of each.

Upon his chest is a strange symbol. Two white lines arc to form an elongated ellipse. In the center is a white dot, while white spines extend up and downward from both curves. Purple weaves in the center, filling the space of what seems to be an eye. _You are looking exactly at that. He sees the mighty violet eye. _

Finally he carries a massive, orange staff. Flames flicker from the end of the handle and shoot outward from it in a stream. The head of the weapon floats in and out calmly and rhythmically. _You like the bobbling toy. He wants one of his own!_

Jaina stands to his left, my right. _You telling us that because…? He doesn't want us to be confused._ Will you two stop? _You are cranky. He needs to chill_. I do not need to chill, I just need you two to shut up. _You will never get us to! He cannot stop viva el talking! _What?_ You heard him…_

Ahhh!

Bah! Like I need my first impression in this city to be of me arguing with myself.

I shake my head a bit and gaze back forward. To the man's right are an unfamiliar dwarf, another odd mage, and the troll! Wait…what was his name? _You forgot mister troll's name?! He is a monster!_

Just tell me his name. _You never find it odd that you ask us for such information? He needs to hang up and dial again! _Ok, I will remember. Ok, I know it started with a "T." T…t…Timmy…Tommy…ummm…_You are not even trying. He is close, though. You are doing…OK. He is definitely…OK._

Ok? What are…oh…T…OK…his name is Tok. Ah, thank you. _You are not welcome. He owes us a buck fifty. _I stare awkwardly at the troll as my voices fight with me. Sadly, he catches sight of my crazy gaze and smirks. Great, he knows exactly what I am thinking.

He flicks his wrist and motions me to come over. I hesitate at first, but almost feel forced as the entire room shifts their focus to me. I hate so much attention. _You are a mighty hero and you cannot stand it? He needs to loosen up._

Nathanos passes by my side. Carlin next, followed by Jessica and Mark. All of their eyes lock on me. Soldiers shift by one by one. Their eyes lock to me one by one. Quickly I step into the rather dark, purple-floored room.

I ignore the vast of the dark appearing vacancy of this room and simply approach the signaling troll. He makes an odd chirping sound that kind of reminds me of an exploding bird. _You are strange. He makes up the craziest of notions._

"Hope, mon, ya be just in time!" He turns to me and glares at the man in the middle. "Ya be in time ta tell dis mage here Arthas is not da only part of da Lich King!"

Whoa. What and where did that come from?

The mage shakes his head. "Troll, we were over this. Arthas is the only entity of the Lich King now."

"Rhonin, ya daft mage, mon, dat be foolishness!" Tok shuffles before the mage. "We know I be da wisdom of da evil within."

The man, that I think is Rhonin, sighs. However, a high-pitched, tiny womanly voice chirps, "Tok Fon, the spirit of Ner'zhul was banished and destroyed months ago. Arthas is the only part of the Lich King."

My eyes search the room and finally find a tiny gnome near the troll's feet. I think I know her.

"Troll, that means that it is gone, dead, forever out of mind." The mage speaks, "Ner'zhul is not a part of this equation"

Ner'zhul? What, is that some sort of snack? _You are as slow as a waterlogged turtle. He needs a pair of rocket boots._

Tok narrows his vision, "Mon, we both know dat Ner'zhul is lingering and lurking within da boy. We also know from me own personal experience that lingering and lurking still means alive."

Ok, I know I can be confused sometimes, but right now, I am pretty sure they are speaking another language. _You know you just have no idea what is going on. He also knows the troll might actually be._

Oddly I raise my hand and shout,

"Hold it!" My hand lowers and slides through my hair, "Firstly," I point to the tiny gnome, "You are from Andorhal!"

The red haired, freckled gnome squeaks and claps, "Hello, cutey!"

I smile and turn to the mage, "You must be Rhonin."

He nods.

"I am Hope Blackwood, and I am confused to know end."

The mage lowers an eyebrow and speaks, "Was that last part a question?"

Sylvanas snorts and replies for me, "No, he really meant it as a statement. He is really, really confused. It is Goldfish's second nature to be bemused."

He looks oddly at her then back to me, "You, boy, are the Hope Blackwood? The one known as the Light Bringer?"

I nod.

He narrows his vision as he speaks, "I always pictured you as a larger, stronger looking individual, giant even." His eyes divert to my side, "Wow, it is true. You really do wield a spade. Impressive."

A smirk forms over his face.

"Of course, if your legends are as true as your form, then you are the kind of crazy maverick this world needs!" His free hand extends forward, "Pleasure to finally have met you, Hope."

Without hesitation I grip his hand. He squeezes firmly. I squeeze back. Our eyes lock. Pain begins to ripple through my palm. Cracking screams from his. Leather crushes against cloth. Our minds are locked. We battle with our agonizing hands and mental fortitude. _You are not allowed to use 'Hope' and 'mental fortitude' in the same sentence! He is charged with a personal foul!_

"Um, gentlemen, not to be rude…"

We instantly let go as Jaina speaks. He clears his throat, and I cough a few times. _You are doing this why? He is truly losing his mind._

"Rhonin, what are we planning to do about the whole scourge invasion?"

The mage rotates to her.

"Proudmoore, we both know that the barrier will last years. These pathetic scourge vessels will not overcome the magic of a thousand Kiron Tor Magi."

"Yes, Rhonin, but we will not be able to leave this city in one piece. Frostwryms and all sorts of Scourge aerial units are patrolling the rims…"

"Why does that matter? We are safe here, nestled in the heart of arcane."

She makes to speak, but silences instantly. Her eyes sweep Rhonin. They search the man for answers to questions she wishes to ask. They pray for solutions to problem she dreams to resolve. Then, oddly, she looks over to me.

Sadness seeps from her bright blue orbs. A force drills at her essence, but she does not say a word. She does not wince nor does she cry. Something is killing her from within. Nathanos' words suddenly pop in my head. But only one word stands out. Pain. _You are the king of reclamation! He is the god of guess!_

"So that is your grand mage's plan?" As usual a deep, crackling call of Marris breaks my train of thought.

"You plan to sit here and wait? Wait for a magical end deserving of your already wondrous sway?" He spits at the ground, "Fools! The armies of the Horde and alliance are marching towards the Citadel as we speak."

He spins in a dramatic fashion. "The Ashbringer rests in the hands of this wrinkly old fool here," he points to Carlin, "The Light Bringer is standing before you, arms open," points to me, "and all you have to show is useless patience?"

I glance back to Rhonin. A strange, angry, yet inquisitive expression sweeps his face. He looks to Carlin and his mighty weapon. His eyes slowly sweep back across the undead man and land on me. Strong, firm, confident orbs search my very soul. They, like Jaina's, search for something unseen and unrevealing.

They are hunting for something within me. And as his eyes narrow, eyebrows lock firmly, and his expression changes to utter determination, I know he has found what he is looking for.

He takes a step forward before speaking.

"Chromie, can you tell me what is going to happen this very day?"

The tiny figure shakes and moves a bit forward, "Rhonin, you know I couldn't reveal that to you even if I did."

He glances to her, "I do not want to know the outcome. Do you possess the ability to know the outcome of today?"

She cocks her head to the side and throws the tall man an awkward glance. Tiny pupils play within her skull and drill Rhonin as well as her own mind. Her lips curl to a frown and she scratches her head.

"Sadly, my boy, I only know possible, generic outcomes. Only the players of this game can truly define the ends and the means. You know that."

A smirk stretches his face, "Then today we shall shift our pieces. Today, we shall give reality to unseen solutions."

He spins to Jaina, "Young woman, what is that you want me to do? What was your idea of game play?"

She blinks a few times before looking to me.

"Well, we need to get to Icecrown. Anywhere in Icecrown will take a vast amount of energy, I know, but anywhere will do."

He snorts, "Anywhere in Icecrown? That will take more than vast amounts, that will take almost an entire army of mages!"

Suddenly he moves for the door, his head shaking as he moves. "Just imagine how many it will take to open a portal straight through Arthas' dark magic and right on to his doorstep."

Jaina's face shifts to shock, "Rhonin, what are you saying?"

He rushes from the building and into the light. His head shifts right, then left. Vision sweeps the streets of all the citizens and all the soldiers. Finally he turns his shoulder back to Jaina and smiles.

A deep, bellowing voice echoes froth from his loud, commanding lungs. It stretches the streets and catches the eyes and ears of all. It climbs the tallest of towers and spans the vast of the city. It reaches the soul and drives the spirit.

"Mages of the Kiron Tor, hear me, Archmage Rhonin!" He rotates in his spot, "Today, we come from the hiding. Today, we break from our plotting shell!"

He looks up, down, left and right, "Today, we bring the fight to the heart of the enemy!"

Cries from nearby soldiers follow the cries of the mage. Hands wave in triumph and others clap in excitement. But the man is not yet finished.

"Snuff the eye of the beast! Blind the blue darkness of the Necropolis! Once it is finished, all mages report to the center of the city!"

Cries ring loudly. Feet shuffle quickly. The hum of a massive cannon grows louder. Eyes of a leader sweep his organizing troops. Robed men rush from all locations and scurry rapidly towards the arched pathways of the fountain.

Rhonin makes to move, but Jaina cannot help but say, "Rhonin, the shield we be taken down if the mages leave their positions."

A sudden flash of violet and loud, rolling explosion delays Rhonin's answer. He, however, smiles as mages from behind burst into the room and rushing across the hall.

"It would seem the enemy is now blind."

"Rhonin, the shield?"

He pauses, smirks and simply replies, "We built this city from ruin once before, "He turns from her and makes for the steps, "We can do it again."

As he marches, Thrall chuckles while Sylvanas claps once before emitting,

"Finally, the mages bring their fury to this fight!" She quickly rushes past me with Thrall following, "Come, Goldfish, before you get lost in your own imagination again."

Both of them shift from the room in a hurry. I make for the door, but something suddenly grabs my arm and I spin. Jaina looks depressingly down to me. Tears build at the corners of her eyes.

"Hope, when you find Arthas…" she hesitates, "Tell him I love him." Again she pauses to hold back her tears, "Then end that monster he has become. Kill him."

Anger floods her voice before she lets me go. I look to her and frown as I say, "You aren't coming, are you?"

She shakes her head, "No, I cannot bear the sight of his death. Just the word of it will suffice."

I nod and turn away. She sighs one last thing as I near the door, "You remind me of him. Of the man I loved. He was once innocent and calm like you. Once…"

Without turning I say, "He will find that peace again…before he falls, he will find it. I swear to you."

I hear her whimper from behind, but do not dare to look. Quickly, I leave the saddened woman behind and trot hurriedly down the stairs. Nathanos and Carlin shift by a pair of arches before a loud, thunderous roar from overhead draws my attention.

A red dragon of massive proportions flinches violently. Blood splatters across the barrier and vanishes into burning nothingness. It flaps awkwardly and painfully. Nearby a giant blue dragon draws a swirling mess of blue, black, and white destruction inside her chest.

"Alexstrasza, I always knew this day would come. And we both knew it would end this way." Blue flame builds at the corners of the undead beast's mouth. "May the world weep endlessly, may trees wither from sorrow, may the planet itself flinch with your death!"

I watch in horror as the red figure struggles to maintain flight. Fire gathers at the edges of the wounded beast's mouth. It prepares to shoot, but its assailant is already ready for its deadly strike.

"Alexstrasza, may your corpse feed the maggots…"

As the words slip from her mouth, fire begins to flow. Air draws in, the beast readies. As she prepares, a small, white figure flashes around the bend of the Necropolis. As she arches her head back to end it all, a flock of gorgeous white birds fills the sky.

They are all led by one man, led by one, bellowing call.

"For Khaz Modan!"

Leaping from the back of the bird is a small, glowing man. Silver clings to all edges of the rapidly growing figure. In a flash, the tiny individual grows three times his side. In flash, his mighty maces lift and crash into the skull of the undead monster.

Fragments of white bone rain down from the monster's head. Latched to the skull, the glowing silver figure thrashes wildly. Shrill screeches of agony fill the air as the beast is pummeled mercilessly by the sudden assault.

It begins whipping its entire body in frenzy. Claws reach up and slice wildly at the attacking dwarf. Wings beat as the monster turns. The dwarf clings tightly, but a fast, high sweep of the claw catches the man and dislodges him partially. His legs draw near the mouth, and with a chomp and flick of the neck, the silver figure flies towards the city.

He spins and twirls midair. Birds attempt to pluck him from the sky, but his bulk is too vast. He nears the purple border, smashes through it and…

_CRARASH._

Stone and water shoots high into the air. Screams of horror radiate from the center of town, and I quickly rush down the steps and sprint towards the arches. Unexpectedly, a flash draws my eyes back into the air, and I watch as a massive ball of fire collides heavily into the undead beast's side.

Black flame pours from the monster's side like blood from a vein. Its mighty wings drag the mortally wounded creature quickly around. Slowly it floats from over the city and takes to the sky.

As it moves, a shrill cry fills the air, "Mortals, I curse you! This was my vengeance! Mine!" The red dragon shift and takes off quickly after the monster, "I will return! Sindragosa will have her revenge!"

At that, the mighty dragons recede from sight, letting their story be told in another time and place. Filling the two's place are dozens of white, ferocious birds and their miniature riders. They fight relentlessly and drag Frostwyrm after Frostwyrm from the sky…

I continue to the downed fighter in the center of the city. In a flash, I come upon the small man and a crushed fountain underneath. A few stand near him, but I fight my way to his side.

As soon as I arrive he coughs and opens his beady eyes.

"Woo, that was a rush, ye'lad?"

I shake my head and reach down to him, "Muradin, you are late."

He chuckles and cracks his spine once he is upright, "Sorry, lad, these old bones are slower than I thought."

As he looks around, Rhonin snorts, "Muradin, did you really have to make such a dramatic entrance? You took out the fountain and everything."

A smirk forms on the dwarve's face, "I couldn't miss this for world, lad. Had to make it memorable."

Rhonin shakes his head and shoos the dwarf from the fountain. He eyes the now spurting base of the structure and nods.

"Mages, draw your magic here! Use the remains of the fountain as a base for your energy!"

Dozens of purple robed men shift in a circle around the fountain. Gleaming violet eyes lock perfectly upon the crushed fountain. Wrinkled, aging hands shift next to the smooth flesh of the young. Swirls of energy build at their fingertips. Purple haze gathers at their arms and slides down to their palms.

In seconds, all hands become lost in the lavender glaze. The swirling mess consumes entire bodies as it builds. Facial features are lost behind the unbelievable powerful magic. The barrier begins to fade overhead.

With each passing second, the barrier slowly diminishes. Violet turns to gray. Purple turns to white. Lavender turns to black. Second by second, the natural colors of the world break the once protective shield.

Below the mages begin feeding the power forward. Magic builds inward. It starts as a giant, fluffy cloud and quickly condenses. A sight of monumental proportions. A sudden flash of green erupts from my side…

_BRURSH._

Stone rips from the archways and from the top of a nearby building. Flames billow into the sky, and flames flicker from a struck building. Past them both is a looming structure of doom. Naxxramas.

Rhonin yells loudly.

"We need the fortress distracted!" He pauses, "This is taking too long. We need more power!"

As if on cue, a white robed figure shifts past me. Blonde hair drags behind an elegant neck. In a flash she lifts her hands and a purples haze envelops her.

"Apologizes, Archmage, I got distracted."

Green flash. _BRURSH_

More chunks rain from another arch. Flame lashes unyieldingly from the impact spot. I see Rhonin shift, but before he can say a world, sounds of sputtering engines and whirling propellers fills the air.

A bulky Zeppelin sweeps us from overhead. A purple balloon drags a wooden ship quickly across the city and straight for the floating behemoth. Suddenly a large, furry creature leaps from the side of the ship. A cloth chute catches the air and lets him fall safely from the side and into a distant part of the city.

Nathanos appears in the corner of my vision, "What is that little idiot up to?"

The ship begins making a wide right turn. As it does, a high-pitched squeal echoes from the vessel, "Kel'thuzad, you denied me it once! Because I was too short!? Fool!"

Suddenly the ship makes a hard left turn, the bow now facing the floating Naxxramas.

"You forget who you are messing with, sir!"

It doesn't slow.

"I am Captain Skippy! I own these skies!"

It aims for the hole.

"And it can be hugz time now!"

Wooden sunders against stone. Ropes rip from a wooden base. A balloon lifts and tears into the sky as the lower section snaps horrifically and slides through the now larger hole. Stone crumbles inward as the ship careens straight into the heart of Naxxramas.

BRURSH

A mighty explosion tears down the side of the ship. Flames billow from the vessels. An explosion tears massive chunks of the fortress and engulfs the entire zeppelin. Eruptions ripple down the side of the flying fortress. Flames pour in all directions.

Slowly and steadily, Naxxramas begins tilting before rapidly descending. The jade stone on top pulses wildly as flames flicker and dance upwards. For a brief moment, the fortress lingers in sight before floating downward and out of sight.

Taking along with it Captain Skippy. Gods' speed, little goblin. Gods' speed.

A bright flash blinds my vision briefly, and I turn quickly. Gleaming brightly for all is a large, circular object. Sparks of bright light flicker from the edges. White borders build inward and give light to an overwhelmingly dark structure.

Gray steps run upwards at a steep angle. Slabs of towering, solid black stone lock the steps firmly in place. Plastered on front of each said block is an enormous skull. Horns curl back at the side of the ram like creature's skull. Steps of the Citadel itself.

"It is finished…"

As Rhonin completes his statement, a loud, crackling explosion radiates from behind. I turn to see a streak of black and green energy tearing stone and vaporizing stone arches. Soldiers flee from the strike, but it is too late.

Buildings collapse inward, creating a stone ramp from the wall and towards the inner of the city. Another bright flash blasts and a horrific explosions ripples from overhead. Stone explodes outward as a bolt of raw energy cuts fiercely through the top of the cannon tower.

Dust ejects from the new wound. Stones break from the explosion. A loud, crackling sound fills the air as the tower begins tilting outwards. The slit grows, and in a display of horror and destruction, the neck of the structure snaps, loosing the upper portion from the tower.

Slowly it begins falling. Slowly it detaches from its natural base. Slowly…

"Go, heroes! Take it before the energy dissipates!" Rhonin shifts past me as he talks.

Sylvanas doesn't hesitate for a moment. In a hurry, she scurries through the portal and vanishes. Thrall follows quickly with a Horde soldiers close in pursuit. Carlin steps through with Jessica close behind. Mark takes off after them. Tok Fon shakes his head and takes a slow, heavy step through the swirling mess.

Finally Nathanos tilts his head back and sighs, "I hate portals."

He comes to the edge and Muradin shoves him through, "Go, Lad, I ain't getting stuck on this floating mess!"

The dwarf chuckles, turns to and motions me forward. Then, with a hop and jump he vanishes. Slowly, I approach the humming, vibrating mess. Slowly, I take in all the horrifying features of the portal.

Quickly, I turn to see where Rhonin went. I cannot see him at first, but I catch sight of him crawling up the new stone path. A dozen mages tail him close behind, and I cannot help but yell to him.

"Rhonin, where are you going."

Without turning, he rushes forward. However, I hear his deep, commanding voice echo outwards. As he speaks the severed portion of the tower comes into sight, its walls falling horizontally.

"My story is here, Hope. Defending my people." Turns his head briefly to nod, "Go. Your tale lies upon the frozen wastes."

The white structure becomes the background to the climbing man. It falls fast and true. He runs straight and with fury. He comes to the city wall as half the falling structure fades under the city, the other half still visible.

"For the Kiron Tor!"

He vanishes in a bright flash. In a second her reappears, his feet slamming into the top of the still falling structure. His mages appear next to him as he runs. They come to his side as the building falls. Stones lift past them. Dust wafts around their bodies.

Flashes blink and Rhonin vanishes again. He vanishes from sight. All of them do in a blink of an eye. All that is left is the edge of the city and the looming fortress that is the only remaining Necropolis.

Good luck, Rhonin.

I spin, face the portal, and smile.

My turn for a disappearing act.


	15. Chapter 15: Lightbreaker

Frozen ground bears my heavy feet. Black rocks jut wildly upon the shattered cold ground. Wooden barricades give security to dozens of soldiers in yellow, red and black. A deep, hollowed, black path runs down the middle of this small encampment; it cuts through the whitish-gray soil, and ends at a massive, gray staircase.

Black slabs of solid stone rise from the icy ground. Hulking skulls are placed ominously on the face of the hundred-foot tall rising blocks. Their sinister eyes and twisted horns resemble that of the skull built upon the Lich King's blade.

That same skull haunts my dreams. Of that I am certain. _You feel the boogey man lives within it. He hates them all._

Sounds of battle reverberate upon this low, dark valley. Screams of clashing warriors echo clearly and fiercely. Cries of falling soldiers and victorious heroes mingle and spill upon these cold, dry, dark lands.

Yellow and blue clad soldiers brace walls of unyielding skeletons and lumbering abominations. Red and black bearing fighters join the fray against giants and leaping fiends. Navy blue, armored death knights duel undead lieutenants of equal power and skill.

Fighters scuffle. Warriors convey war. Soldiers silence foes. Leaders lead, and heroes rally. Each man, in his own right, bears all qualities or dies striving to achieve them. And it is but a few that intensify these said aspects.

"Soldiers of the Horde, crush these weak fools! Smash their bodies and grind their skulls within your mangled claws!" Garrosh holds back dozens of raging ghouls, yet still stirs his men to war.

Wrynn breaks the line of assaulting skeletons and charges forward, "Warriors of the Alliance, let their bodies pave a path to the citadel! March upon it gloriously and spread it endlessly!"

"Sons of Durotar, allies of the Horde, march forth, march hard, march with honor! Bring the fight to the steps of Icecrown! Show the Scourge they have no place upon these lands!" Mighty Thrall throws a swirling hammer of silvery destruction at a pack of leaping monsters.

A giant, glowing dwarf barrels through a legion of now fleeing Scourge warriors. Flying maces crash into the ground, sending barrages of dirt and ice spiraling into the air. A deep, crackling voice bellows, "For Khaz Modan," as Muradin lays siege to the assaulting Scourge.

"Knights of the Ebon Blade, let each fallen enemy boost your strength! Let each crumbling foe fuel your rage! Let the Lich King know that which it created comes. And it comes with vengeance!" Darion rallies his knights as he charges down the path, towards the towering steps.

Arrows rain from the hands of both the mighty queen and the deadly assassin that is Nathanos. Undead warriors of the like march along side the horde and alliance with vengeance fueling their hearts. All follow the lead of the one lady…

"Remember the day your life was taken from you! Remember the untold horrors of the dark voice! Remember and hatred shall guide you. Victory for the Forsaken!" Sylvanas inspires her unruly warriors.

Soldiers of all varieties follow these heroes straight into battle. Carlin, Nathanos, Jessica, and Mark all join the grand fighters in fierce combat. All the companions of the Light flock to the power of the Ashbringer; all able bodies bring war to the heart of the Icecrown.

Even overhead small white birds, grand gray Gryphons, and winged Wyverns fight gargoyles and malicious destroyers. Gliding, wooden behemoths defy gravity, given flight by man-made instruments. Hulking cannons barrage fleets of Frostwyrms. Gargantuan weaponry lay waste to armies below. Massive airships guided by whatever means…for the righteous ends.

The scene is war. The battle is overwhelming. The number of units on both sides is ridiculous. The casualties are low for us heroes, and are countless for the Scourge. _You bath in the dead! He would be…if he weren't standing around._

Carefully I reach back, grab my blade, and draw it forward. I suck air in heavily. I release it slowly. Matted hair clings to my face. Sights of advancing heroes fuel my determination. This is it, Hope. Guide them. Guide them to the towering steps themselves. _You can do it! He has the power!_

Feet land heavily upon the unforgiving ground. Ice clings to the soles as each step lands and lifts. Faster, I move forward. Armor shifts and cracks beneath my feet. Bones crack and splinter as I charge forward. Warriors near. Steps draw me closer.

With each passing moment, I close in on the quickly moving heroes. They break the wall of warring Scourge units. They near the base of the steps, and I near their flanks. Closer. I draw. Shovel lifts to my shoulder. Focus flows freely.

Light, hum, flash.

Spiraling energy spins wildly. A giant is consumed by the massive blast. Skeletons collapse from the mere sight. Ghouls break from the impact. Abominations fall from the shockwave. Soldiers spin and cheer as I near the steps. Cries of victory flow as I fight to the front lines. Scourge mass as I lift my weapon.

Light, hum, flash.

The ball collides with stone slope and oddly rolls up the many steps. Enemies are torn asunder, leaving vast holes in their lines. Heroes flood the steps. They flood the steps and follow my marching feet. Now I lead the pack; weapon at the ready, fury unleashing upon the foe.

Flash, Flash, Flash.

Dozens of enemies explode as the torrent of light tears them to pieces. Carlin lunges forward, whipping and thrashing the might of the Ashbringer. Arrows whistle overhead and rain down. Blades of the faction leaders crash upon the Scourge.

We do not slow as bodies crash into ours. We do not slow as minions of the Scourge collapse and form a corpse barrier before us. We do not slow as we near the top, nor as we barrel to the final steps. We do not stop as we flood over the final crevasse and scatter upon the flat platform that builds the base of the giant Citadel.

Yellow and blue soldiers rush to the left of the platform and quickly secure a footing. Red and Black warriors take to the right and gain a firm control. Black knights, laced with blue, stay back and hold the steps.

But all is dwarfed by what lies ahead…

It is what stands before us that distracts me. It is what looms menacingly that calls our attention. It what rests in the heart of the metal edifice that beckons our minds. Ahead…a wide open door leads into the citadel itself.

Something is not right. We took the steps with barely a fight. Those numbers were weak at best. Something is definitely not right. _You can feel it. He certainly can._

White smoke floats from the corners of door. Heavy film builds upon the gaping chasm, bringing movement to the swallowing darkness. Ice hangs from the frame, dangling into the vast black wall of the terrifying unknown.

I look into the heart of darkness and simply say, "This ain't right…"

Darion takes a step forward but suddenly stops. He looks back to his knights below then glances to me.

"Hope, I may have been hallucinating, but when I arrived, I swear I saw Tirion himself battling at this gate." He sighs, "He fought hard and managed to struggle his way into the fortress."

Garrosh grunts loudly, "The Death Knight does not lie! I saw the insane human assaulting this massive entrance. His strength took down this very door."

Skeptically, I peer to Wrynn. The king stares into the abyss as if it already siphoned his soul. His eyes are wide, vacant of attention. They gaze, his mouth sundered, unheard screams of anguish slip past his lips. Suddenly he flinches and nods.

"Yes, it was Tirion…there was no mistaking it."

Nathanos steps forward and shakes his head, "Unheard of. Tirion could have not taken this all by himself. That is nonsense."

"It is simply farfetched." Sylvanas looks forward and shifts to Marris before continuing, "Fordring was a grand fighter, but to beat down the door of death single-handedly? Unbelievable."

We all stare forward. Frosty winds slip in and out of the dark opening as if calling us. Icy spikes climb my spine, clinging to my gawking sight. Death itself whispers sweet nothings into my ear.

Suddenly, a distant voice booms, "Scourge soldiers are massing! A counterassault for these very steps!"

Instantly, I gaze back onto the frozen field. Hundreds of undead warriors gather and form ranks for the assault. The very ground trembles, shattering to the numerous, tenebrous warriors rising. An ambush…

As the foes rise, heroes flee to these stairs, an unnerving position at best.

Garrosh and King Wrynn quickly descend the case and make to the front lines. It would seem the two are still competing for kills. _You know they are. He is just lucky they haven't taken each other's head yet._

Thrall shifts and turns to the entrenching Horde troops at the platform around us. He seems nervous as malicious Scourge troops flood around the bend, another prepared strike amassed from within the citadel itself.

I am not certain what entrance or exit they spill from, but the flood gates of the damned have broken. And the balcony we hold will be the dam to the rage. Thrall knows this, and he also understands that it is in where he warrior's strength lies.

"Heroes, the time to strike at the enemy is now." He shifts towards his barricaded warriors, "It is here where my vengeance shall be dealt. Go, bring the King to his knees."

The Warchief pounds his chest before rushing to aid his warriors against the assault. At the same time, I watch as Muradin makes to assist the troops on the other side of this circular flat bastion.

However, he halts promptly, twisting back to me, "Go, lad. I will wait here to make sure no spooky fiends sneak up on'ye."

I throw the dwarf a weak smile than look forward. The swirling black mess calls to me. It begs me to come in. It wants me to step into its churning damnation and taste of its terror.

I take a deep breath and make it move. Nathanos, however rushes forward and turns to me as he does.

"Worm, I will not be telling this story to someone else's children with the words, 'Worm walked into the citadel first.'" He makes for the door than suddenly stops. "Long story short, me first."

He then scans the frame of the door then glances into the darkness. His eyes sweep back and forth and his jaw lowers. For a long, lingering moment he gazes forward. Finally, he swallows his fear, fills himself with pride, and rushes forward.

In a flash, he vanishes into the black wall. In a flash, he is no more than a myth, a legend swallowed by the darkness. A terrible twisting sensation grips my stomach. Fortunately, it is quelled by the mighty queen.

Sylvanas grunts loudly and slips past me. She does not hesitate when entering. She does not slow. She simply runs straight inward, consumed by the shadows. _You know that is what you have to do. He cannot hesitate._

Yes, you are right. Breath, Hope, breath.

Now go!

Speedily I rush hastily for the black wall. With each passing second, it increases in size. Each step it fills all my vision. With each thundering, echoing roar, the black abyss becomes all I know.

The metal frame passes me, and draws life from my skin as I move. A deep, unnerving chill claws my flesh and drills at my mind. A strange light radiates from overhead, fading as pockets of frosty winds drift through it. It is as if a cascading waterfall of frozen air drifts down the sides of a massive, spiraled ice pillar.

Crystals of chaos form jagged patterns across a visible looping path. Its appearance resembles that of slide that reverses upwards into the heavens, stopping only for a black wall of solid metal. Again, it would seem that the Lich King deems himself worth of a stature undeserving.

The path to the Death-God rests perfectly centered amongst a murky cavern of death. Long, metal bridges jut from the massive column, stretching to a pyramidal, metal wall -- a vertical rise of iron casing. Clean, elongated spikes of ice cling to the underbelly of said metallic walkways. Each pointy prick motions the eye downward to the green tainted metal across the disturbing ground.

A thick, frosty film rushes across the vast of the large, frozen floor and runs to large, blade-like spires nestled all along the metallic shell. Chains connect to the tips of the spires, while deathly spines protrude like pricks of a porcupine. It is like a network of dark art, metal drawing in all directions, filling the void of dark demise with constructs of equal terror.

Winged beasts scurry across chains and fly within the massive hollowed space. Scourge soldiers scamper across bridges and rush into spires. The world of the Lich King is shrouded by shadows and cooled by frothy pockets of descending air.

Tendrils of the ominous clouds claw downwards, reaching for a resting place amongst the graves built of earthen soil. Bodies litter the ground, signifying a battle already taken place. Skeletons, ghouls, death knights, and soldiers clad in yellow, black, blue, and red, all rest here. Banners scatter across the floor. An attack was launched this day. And from the losses, it would seem that neither side proclaimed victor.

I make to speak, but Sylvanas beats me, "It would seem Tirion did indeed make it inside. But he was definitely not alone."

"These troops must have followed him in. I am not sure where they came from, but they definitely followed him." Oddly the voice of Darion trails softly. "Disappointing that they all bear the mark of Arthas now. The mark of death."

Silence sweeps in after him.

Suddenly, the sounds of a gasping Carlin emit. I am not certain if it is from the sight, or from the rather apparent lack of air. It is insanely difficult to breath. The vapors of ice and frost seem to swallow my lungs.

I hear a whimper and I turn to see Jessica standing at the door, with Muradin at her side. She stares upon the ground and shakes wildly. Fear radiates from her pours, and I quickly rush to her. I stop at the metallic frame. She speaks as I cease movement.

"Hope, I cannot." She shakes her head, "It is horrific. I can feel him. I can feel the terror." Her hand reaches up and grabs something around her neck. "The fear is overwhelming, I just cannot…"

With a swift jerk, she removes a small necklace from her body and hands it to me. Fingers click wildly together as it lowers.

"This belonged to my sister." I reach down, and touch her flesh as I remove the metal chain. Instantly her hand stops vibrating.

She glances down at her hand and then to me in bewildered splendor. After a second she speaks.

"Hope, I do not know who you are, or what gave you life, but please, take this. Remember me with it. Remember me when you drive your spade down that monster's throat."

Her arms recoil. We stand opposite of the door. One stands free, out of the dark, freezing air. The other holds in his hand an item of freedom. Both of them wish the same end to this tale, but one will be there, experiencing it first hand. The other…unscarred and pure.

I look into her eyes, and she looks into mine. A smirk forms upon her face as we gaze into each other's soul. A smile stretches across mine as our beings play in another time and place.

Her lips move, but something unexpected bellows forth…

"HOPE!"

Horrible echoes rattle the halls of this damned structure. The bellowing roar rumbles and quakes every inch of known earth. It's sinister, ear screeching voice assaults my mind and grips my spine.

"YOU ARE MINE."

Again the voice radiates forth, but this time a sickening twist follows. Metal screeching against metal fills the air. Sparks shoot from the corners of the frame as the door speeds down and shuts. I do not move, but pounding fists echo from outside.

All I can do is simply gaze upon the metallic blocker and let a terrible feeling fill my body. The horrific sensation gathers upon my flesh and feeds inward. It grips my soul and quakes me to my boots. Fear…

"Lad! Are you alright?" Muradin shouts from outside.

Weakly I yell back, "Yes. It would see Arthas wanted the door to hit me on the way in..."

There is silence for a moment and then he speaks again. "Blast it lad!" He pounds the door heavily, it won't budge!

More rumbling thuds roll from outside. He continues on for a good minute before ceasing the futile effort. It is then I can hear him sigh deeply, "Lad, it would seem fate did not destine for me to take part in Arthas' death."

He pauses briefly.

"Go, lad, do what must be done." I hear a deep sigh again, "But can ya'do me a favor, lad?"

My body quakes as I reply, "Muradin, I would…be…honored."

"Lad," he pauses briefly, patiently concocting his sentence, "remember every second of the King's dying moment. Remember it vividly and perfectly."

His words soften, as if sorrow dances along side his obvious rage, "I want to taste every bit of his death from ye'words." But from his words, it is only his vengeance that seeks through.

I make to smile, but the frost lingers. Lungs expand as much as they are allowed, and air escapes in crackling bursts.

"Will do, Muradin. Will do."

There is another pause before he shouts.

"Go, lad! We will be fine!"

Silence.

"Go!"

Silence.

At that I stare at the door. Tinged gray feeds my mind a buffet of unpleasant emotions. It is as if I can feel death lurking from the dark matter this is the sealed, lifeless frame. Air crawls into my lungs and morphs menacingly.

Bones creak like fracturing ice. Muscles stretch like snowdrifts down mountainsides. Slowly, carefully, I shift my direction back to the others trapped in this nightmare. The pack of heroes stands exactly as before. They stare at me oddly, screaming the tales of fear from their stances.

I sigh again and quickly attach the necklace, tucking it under my armor. Slowly, I creep forward. Wafts of ice air smother my feet with every passing moment. Gaseous pustules slough from unseen vents scattered upon the walls.

Frozen carcasses rest stationary as my heavy leather soles shuffle past them. Crystals slowly grip my chest and cling onto the mushy lining of my lungs. Crunching snow and snapping bones drives my sanity to the brink, but I must hold firm. _You act as if you are still sane. He truly does._

Carefully, I shift past the startled companions and move to a large chasm. Looking down, all I can see is a vast sea of darkness. White smoke pillows softly from the calm abyss, and gentle sounds of rocking waves carry to my ears. _You hear the once marvelous sounds of the glacial waters. He now seems the darkness that has consumed it._

"COME TO ME, MY CHAMPION."

Sinister demise beckons from a voice devoid of all humanity.

Unpredictably, a quaking roar screams from below. Excitement stirs within the churning tide of darkness, bringing to light an object of pure damnation. My eyes take only a moment to adjust to the lifting platform of light absorbing metal.

Quickly, it lifts upwards and draws a path of solid steel for our destiny. Spiny railings draw upwards from the sides of the pathway, while large blades extend terrifyingly outward. After a second it shifts into place and gives a proper route to the center platform.

To the massive ramp of the false god.

Frosty air clings to the sides. Claws of shapeless wind thrash upon a calm, icy breeze. They whip at the tops of the spiky railings and dance around the frozen blades. They spiral upon the iron, playfully inviting me to join. Black metal lures me onward as green blotches beg for me to stay.

A grand dilemma, but it must be done…

Shifting forward, my foot drags onto the metal. Echoing across the skies is the sound of leather slamming against metal. Creatures of all sorts cease all activity and eye the man stepping on a bridge of damnation. And each set of optics I can feel upon me…

I take a long, drawn out breath before shuffling forward. Each step screams loudly and alerts all beings to my presence. Of course, one has to believe that they already knew I was here. _You know your alarms. He knows he is being watched…_

Multiple rings of chiming metal bellow from behind, and I instantly acknowledge the others following. Faster, I shift forward. I do not dare glance downwards. Faster, I scurry to the other end. Fear grasps my soul. Faster!

Finally, I scamper from the hanging platform. My eyes lock onto the blackened white of the ice before me. A short, sloping wall leads to the pillar of frozen terror. Ahead, a path leads over an ice-sealed door, which calls to me with its sweeping, bubbly tendrils.

Reluctantly, I move forward. Ice is crisp, and my feet levigate the moist powder easily. Each crunching step draws me further. Each crunching stomp drags me to the path. Each crunching march brings me to the ramp.

My eyes sweep to the white, upward route. Black shadows cling sickeningly to the pure substance, tainting it with wickedness. Shrouded air blocks my vision and forces my sight upwards. The pillar stretches a great distance into the sky. Wrapping darkness is brought form as clouds of pure iniquity suffocate the vast structure.

"Go on, Hope. We are right behind you." Carlin's voice calls to me.

I sigh.

Once again eyes dart to the path. Snow drifts down the slick slope. Sweat freezes within nervous pours. Leather rises. Powder floats gently from the sole of a reluctant foot. Patiently, carefully.

_Thud._

Instantly, I scan to the left then to the right. Nothing stirs. Nothing appears and savagely ravages the pack. Nothing riles, besides the weak smack of a man's foot onto snow-speckled ice.

My body shifts forward. The world tilts upwards. The world directs to the heavens above, knowing what awaits is of that which can only be a hellish nightmare. The world leads…and I cannot refuse the urge to follow.

Firmly now, I march up the path. Within seconds, my body shifts around the first bend. Snow lightly tickles the unshaven hairs extending from my cheeks. Freezing, merciless air grips and strangles my strength.

All the feelings intensify as I move. Even my toes feel the pinch of the frost as gaseous ice builds on the ever-turning incline. Occasionally, I pass a metal bridge. Strangely the iron path seems to connect haphazardly to the side and does nothing more than lead to nowhere.

The walk almost feels too easy. There has to be more than this. No way the Lich King is simply allowing us to treed upon his very fortress, upon his very throne without so much of a fight…

_We dreamt of fighting, too…_

Without warning, the voice churns within my mind. Nervousness consumes my vision as I fidget in my spot. Nathanos throws an awkward glance my way before shaking his own head.

"Did you hear that, too?" I speak firmly, yet spilling fear with every word.

His eyebrows draw downwards as he unwillingly grunts, "Yes, Worm"

A brief pause follows as I attempt to gain my stability, "What is it?"

He swallows harshly, "Worm, there are some things in this world that even someone as magnificent as I does not know."

I make to reply, but a new halts all my efforts.

_Your pride will consume you…_

An unnatural chill flows through my veins. _You are going to have to focus. He is going to have to keep his attention on something else_. What can I possible imagine that will stop the Lich King? _You are going to have to us your special powers to overcome his lure. He will have to overcome._

_You cannot overcome his might. The darkness already has hold._

I do not recognize that voice. Who is that?! That is not the horrific howl of the False God! It sounds as normal as a random commoner; as mundane as a distant friendor lost relative.

_We all thought like you…once…_

Keep going, Hope. Ignore them.

_You cannot hide from the inevitable. You cannot forgo your fate…Hope Blackwood, you shall join the march of the fallen._

No! I am not here to do the Lich King's bidding!

_Your father thought similarly…_

My fist slams into solid ice. Rage courses my veins. I am not my father!

_Goldfish, you have lost your mind!_

Sylvanas' words slap the inner sanctum of my skull. I twist to her, but she simply follows slowly. Contortions of her face reveal signs of inner agony. Gentle hands brace the pillar to her side, giving her needed support for whatever occurs within…

_Control yourself, Hope! Do not let it the darkness consume you!_Tirion's once lost voice showers my senses.

He is not here. Is he? Y_ou must ignore them! He must focus!_ _You shall think of all those who are counting on him! He shall remember what must be done for all those waiting!_

Frozen fingers dig into the snow. Feet numbly carry the weight of a torn soul. Thoughts crisscross and clutter all areas of my mind. Images of heroes flash in and out of sight like brilliant fleeting memories. Thrall, Wyrnn, Garrosh, Rhonin, heroes from the edges of this planet…

Muradin…

_Lad, you betrayed the mercenaries that helped you! Ya'lied to ye'crew. Go home lad, take yer boys home._

Muradin's voice rings loudly, but does not so for me. It is as if he is speaking to another person, communicating a thought from a distant time.

_Arthas…go home, lad._

He speaks to Arthas. He speaks to a man lost to the voices in his head. But he speaks to me. He tells me of a lost soul, but warns one heading on the same meandering path.

_Hope…remember his face. Remember his eyes. Remember it all vividly and perfectly._

Muradin leads me, and I shall listen where one man failed.

_Hope, kill him. Paint a picture of his dying breath with your words._

Energy flows wildly. Feet fight feverishly against slick grains of powdery darkness. It is the same path that was walked long ago. It is the same path treaded by a hero amongst men, and a legend amongst villains. It is the same path Arthas, the man bearing the name of Lich King, lost his humanity.

And today, for all those fighting to live and those living to fight, I march upon the long white mile. Today, I come for you, Arthas, and I come bearing the gifts of a thousand angry souls and the wishes of a few great champions.

The shovel shifts to my fingers. Legs churn energy within like engines brimming with coal. Bend after bend falls to my trekking muscles. The groans of mentally besieged companions follow painfully behind.

I march this path. I march the path of the fallen. And I do so gladly for all those unable. The blade of the Bronzeman shall crack the body of the monster. The Love of Jaina shall guide him to the light. The souls of ones lost to Jessica shall give him aid. And the unyielding spirit of Muradin shall have its revenge…

My lips sunder, and words break freely.

"Arthas Menethil! Son of a fallen king, son of a broken father, son of his damned people, I come for you!"

Thoughts, completely unknown to me, seep from my lips. _You know you knew them. He just needed a little help._ I sweep one long bend, and suddenly stop. Feet above me a metal ceiling rests. Green sings fear to my soul. Black taint cries agony to my mind.

But I shall not back down now…

"Lich King!" I twist swiftly around a bend. "Today, your champion comes home!"

I turn back to those still willing to follow. And, as I expected, every last warrior that followed up this disconcerting ascension still does so; even as Darion fights his inner demons, and the elegant Sylvanas battles her raging thoughts; even as Nathanos claws at his bony flesh, Carlin beats back the monsters of his nightmares, and Mark throws his might at the horrors of his lonely visage…they all continue onward.

"Lich King, today, for the warriors you killed, the heroes you corrupted, and the lives you stole, your champion comes home."

I smirk, watching those struggling behind.

"With the blade of a Bronzeman, I shall stab your heart, paint your face with vivid paint brushes built of angry vengeance. I shall kill you…and with your dying breath, I shall whisper, 'I love you!'"

Wait…that wasn't right…_You were doing so well! He almost had it…._

Nathanos looks to me. All anguish fades from his face, and a strange expression of confusion settles in. Eyebrows lower and muscles tense at the outer edges of his jaws.

"Worm…did you just say you love Arthas?"

Carlin glances to Nathanos than smiles at me. Mark chuckles and Darion shakes his head. Sylvanas forms the not smiling, but not frowning expression and glares at me. My throat tenses and I make to speak…

But I am do not say a word…

"CHAMPION, YOUR MASTER AWAITS YOU. COME WITH YOUR PRIDE, YOUR GLORY, AND YOUR HONOR. DO NOT DISAPPOINT ME…"

Instantly, a crack appears in the metallic surface. Gaseous fumes pour from the ever-growing sliver of expanding light. Shovel locks at the ready. The metal swings back quickly upon hinges on the sides.

Dull light washes over us. Terror bathes our souls. Horrific visages fill our thoughts. Cold, chilling images crush our bodies. And as the doors come to a stop, revealing a hazy path upwards, burning energy fuels our relentless spirits.

Without hesitating, I rush tantively forward. Feet cling to dense metal steps. Ice crystals hook to my frozen face. Arms heave a weapon while lungs bellow a battle cry like no other.

The voices of the others ring from below, overwhelming the rumble of their pounding soles. We scurry through the foamy haze and move forward…

I feel my legs cease all movement.

Ahead of us, rests two figures clad in full armor. They stand in the exact center of a large, circular room. A dark, gray glow dulls the true shine of their plate, but gives way for a wafting blue shine the fills the entire space.

Above, rest spikes that flow downward, enveloped by spiraling plumes of illuminated chill. Each metallic spine navigates downwards and points towards the two warriors standing before us.

One is clad in black, sinister armor. Battle scars riddle the left shoulder of the figure while white hair dangles down to his chest. Next to him stands a figure born in beautiful glinting attire.

Streaks of weak light do no justice to the gold chunks of honor and dignity. A white piece of cloth runs the vast of his back and runs to his knees. A torn, black circle rests in the middle of his spine.

Tirion!

I rush forward a few steps and call excitedly.

"Tirion! They said you were here. They said you fought your into the fortress. And look, you can now stand beside us! Arthas stands no chance!"

The man does not move. Carlin, however, shifts in my vision and calls.

"Lord Fordring, stand with us! By the light, we shall prevail."

Nothing...

"Tirion!" A sinister, almost inhuman call radiates from some unseen figure. "Where do you stand? Where is your light?"

The gold figure shakes and begins turning. At the same time the blackened man to his left moves with him.

His voice bellows to us, "I stand amongst the powerful, amongst those dreaming to see."

Part of his voice faces us. Something is not right…

"Amongst the powerful and the mighty."

White hair clings to a gray face. Tirion…

"Tirion Lightbreaker, stands amongst the legions of the master. There is no light. Just a foolish doom that is hope."

Ice clenches my chest. Drums cease within confines of arching bones. Lips peel apart, but no words break from them. Tirion…

"Fordring, what….no!" Carlin cries from my side.

Tirion! A sudden rush of warmth crushes the overwhelming chill. You do not stand against us! You cannot! You…He sees a lie!_He sees a fake travesty of a man! He does not believe it!"_

Chuckles radiate from the infamous Herald to Tirion's side, "The light has abandoned your greatest of hero." Cackles break his speech briefly, "Tell me, Champion, who can dare stand against the might of the Lich King? You and your pathetic companions will fall. Save yourself the agony and kneel before your god!"

Rage fills the void of my frozen entity. Hatred consumes my soul. Anger agitates the already riled state of my being. Y_ou will not stand for this! He will not do so alone! He will have the aid of more than already present! He must focus of the heros, and of the legends. He must remember Tirion's light. He must…release me!_

Tirion!

A bright flash pours from the corners of my sight. Shiny radiance fills every darkened corner with a sense of purity. Besides me appears a gray, partially glowing man. A paladin of a battle fought long ago.

"Tirion!" The figure, that is my voice, shouts loudly, "I embraced the dark like a fool! I let it consume my true self!"

A weapon, crafted of solid gray, gleams at the borders with a brilliant glow of white, "You shall stand amongst the light, or you shall walk amongst me in the nether!"

Tirion cackles maliciously and shifts to his side, "Lieutenant, it has been too long. Why waste your energy now? Return to the Master! The power he grants is unimaginable!"

"You fool! I will not let you fall to the same fate I let myself!" He lifts his gray weapon, "Let us show you the true might of the light!"

Carlin pulls the Ashbringer to his front. My second voice, the ghostly paladin, prepares for battle. Darion, Mark, and Sylvanas glare forward, battle hunger coursing through their veins.

A deep laugh bellows across the sky. Tirion quickly strafes in the opposite direction of the Herald. They break a path for our eyes. A long, black route leads to a short rising set of steps. Four, thick, malicious steps lead to a sinister figure resting against a massive throne crafted out of solid ice.

Blue flames trickles from its eyes. Spikes, crafted of skulls and death, rise from a gray helmet. White hair clings to a metallic chest built from iniquity's design. Skulls, twisted and evil, adorn the massive shoulders of the monster; cover the boots, knees, belt, and gloves of the horrific being.

The Lich King…

His arms rest upon the throne, one gripping the ice, the other the blade known as Frostmourne. Dark flames lick the air and drag from the finely constructed weapon. It is the man of my nightmares, and the terror of my reality.

Suddenly, he shifts in his hellish throne. Metal creaks and leather screeches as all realign to the rising man. He stands much taller than I envisioned. Fear slowly crawls back into my veins, but I must overcome!

"Champions of the Light!" The inhuman reverberation that is the Lich King's voice calls to us, "I welcome you to the beginning of my ever-lasting reign!"

He stands elevated, armor draping every inch of his sinister being. Frostmourne rests at his side, hanging down to his feet and throne steps.

"You all came, heroes destined for greatness!" He cackles, emitting sounds similar to that of shattering ice, "But, like myself, all you will find…is revelation."

Tirion and Jon shuffle before us, dragging large blades to an aggressive stance. All those surrounding me, lift weapons and lock for combat. Distant, thudding sounds ring the march of a thousand dead. It almost sounds as if armies are shifting outside these very walls.

And with the King's very words, my thoughts become reality.

"The mighty champions below shall be consumed, devoured by my legions, just as you shall. Today…" he leans upon his blade, "…we all become one. In the name of the Lich King."

My glowing eyes pierce forward, spewing torrents of bright light from them as they do. The Lich King fills my sight. The Lich King focuses within my mind. He becomes the only concern…

You are wrong, False God. Today, Lich king…

It ends.


	16. Chapter 16: Eye for an Eye

Screeching metal bleeds thousands of leaping sparks as a crafted blade drags perilously across the grainy surface. Plated soles slap against horizontal sheets of titanium flooring. Glimmering darkness gleams from the once holy armor of a lost paladin.

Strands of graying, darkened hair flee in the opposite direction of the man's tantivy charge. Dark, malicious eye brace my glowing form with the intents of damnation. Curling lips ascend his pale flesh, smile for me a direct confrontation.

Tirion strikes…

But it is not I that shall fight this friend. It is not my destiny to engage the death knight now known as Tirion Lightbreaker. No, another takes that path admirably. A blurred figure dashes from the side of my vision, all signs of his age unapparent. Furious legs expel energy rapidly for the old friend. Fragments of light cling to the ends of the orange and gray weapon known as…Ashbringer.

Carlin advances to engage the armored foe. Intervening on my other side is a ghastly form of a spirit. That same one, a voice that once rested only in my head, pulls along side the aging champion -- the once formless fighter given shape by vengeance, by rage.

Weapons are gripped firmly in all three figure's hands. Two bear the light fully, while one abandons the sacred power for the now commanding chant of death. Minuscule spikes built of damnation dance behind the dragging weapon of Tirion. In a flash the blade releases its grip from the chilling floor, sweeping to an offensive position at the Lightbreaker's front.

Simultaneously, Mark tramples angrily forward, his target a different foe. Shoes sweep across the frosty surface of the platform. Dull light refracts from the concurrent arch of his shield. Light bends to the clutched blade of a short stabbing sword. His figure, Jon, makes slowly at first, but accelerates as he bellows loudly,

"Brother, at long last we can stand together!" The sinister figure spews menacing words as he lunges forward, "Once I drain the life from your body, the Chapel brothers shall feast upon the anguish of the living!"

Brother charges brother. Feet draw both to the inevitable fate. Hands grip weapons constructed for the act lying ahead. Rage drives the soul of Mark, while dark iniquity grasps the soul of Jon. Brother assaults brother. Carlin presses Tiron. Paladin against paladin. Light versus dark. All of them ready for the final confrontation. All of them prepare...

Tirion elevates his weapon and proclaims seconds before impact, "Darkness guide me! Judge the hopeless living!"

A burst of shadows extends from the sinister blade of Tirion. Light carves upwards, bracing the hungering evil in its path using the holy powers of the Ashbringer. Both men are locked in mortal combat. Both are invulnerable to assault, but only we have advantage of numbers.

The Specter shifts to the side of the preoccupied Fordring. Light bends to the shining blade. Jagged lines draw to a fine tip and point towards the exposed flank of Tirion. Swiftly he strikes, but the Lightbreaker is not blind.

With a forceful shove, Carlin stumbles backwards, allowing for a counter attack against the ghostly assassin. Tirion spins the sword upon the air, blurring the blade into a metallic wall -- merely a blur of speed.

Sparks glint briefly from the two weapon's collision. The specter holds firmly, but the might of the dark Tirion is overwhelming. Taking advantage of the moment, Carlin leaps forward again, bringing with him a chance for victory.

Sadly, once again, as if warned of the attack, Tirion breaks from the ghost and whips back to Carlin. Clashing blades chime a screech of failure to both sides. Specter lashes forward, but Tirion strafes to dodge the assault.

As the three continue, Mark collides against his dark brother. Battle cries bellow from both, overwhelming the howling chants of the scraping metal. Eyes lock together. Gray orbs call for the power of darkness. Hazel spheres declare triumph for the light.

But none call as loudly as the banshee near me,

"Arthas!" Sylvanas creeps towards the spectating King, "Too long have you sat upon your hollowed throne!" She hastens her advance, "Too long have you gone unscarred!" Her remarkable pace flourishing, "Too long have I dreamt of this moment!"

Five fighting figures are past by her remarkable haste. As she moves, a wooden instrument of destruction glides forth, coming to her bosom at speed indescribable. Slivers of delicate death lift into a proper position. Arms drag back. Muscles lock briefly.

_TWANG, TWANG, TWANG_

Missiles sweep towards the armored King. He stands confidently. He stands cocky. One, two, three, perfectly aimed strikes land exactly, but bounce pathetically. All three arrows do nothing more than spin uncontrollably away from the unharmed figure, exposing only strength.

A brief hesitation clenches the woman as she repositions. Wood smacks against metal, giving sign to a discarded bow. Daggers are angrily torn from their once stationary holders, the Dark Lady turning to blade. Unyielding, elegant hands grip the razor sharp tools, directing them for the onslaught.

Without warning, the woman goes for the kill. Leaping headlong at the foe, she makes for a frontal strike. Arthas effortlessly counters with blade and body, catching both her hands with the grand Frostmourne. Swiftly, the Banshee Queen uses the blade to propel her skyward. she bends head over heel mid-air, her grace apparent.

He sweeps his blade to counter, but the springy foe spins perfectly. She passes with ease over the giant, landing with her back against the throne. Dull thuds roll from the shaking, frozen block. Sylvanas braces her arms against the ice, drags her legs inwards, and promptly ejects them outwards. Her feet slam against the heavy armor.

Arthas stumbles uncontrollably down his steps. Metal screams as it shakes. Leather squeaks as it tightens. Once stabilized, the king begins twisting, but his speed is lacking. Sylvanas pushes outwards, taking to the air again, but only briefly. All her body twists and aligns as if built of the wind itself. And this gentle breeze carries beneath it the roaring boom of silent vengeance.

Her feet lock against the side of his helmet, and brace against the spiky shoulders. Arthas shifts beneath the enraged fighter, attempting to dislodge her, but she has made her home upon his sloping form. Daggers twirl in her skillful hands. Arms realign.

"Arthas, how did I manage to falter to such a pathetic fool such as yourself?"

Blades glisten in the doomed light, exposed by the beautiful queen's grace. Arms extend to maximum extent, given power by the lady's will. Energy courses through her angry, smooth legs. All her body prepares for the final blow. Sadly, as she does, her arrogance brings aggression does not continue the defense…

Swiftly the King reaches upward and latches upon a vulnerable ankle. With a jerk and sweep of the forearm, Sylvanas whips forward. Sylvanas becomes a gnat to the gripping jaws of the Lich King's might, snapping off the shoulders as directed by the thrashing arm. A hollow thud rings depressingly as the woman is slammed against the chilling floor.

Briefly she goes limp, but turns to Arthas as his blade redirects towards the exposed woman. Darkness rhythmically bursts from the Arthas' chuckling lungs, like air through a fire plume.

"What a shame that your arrogance led you down the same path as once before"

Metal glistens sinisterly in the King's hands. Finely sharpened iron teeth drip a blue, gaseous drool. Froustmorne hungers for the soul below. It can taste the enclosing demise. It knows…

Arthas jerks his body to the side and holds briefly. He eyes the weak foe, but does not direct his sight properly. Unexpectedly, Sylvanas whips her free leg upward, allowing all five, rather forceful toes to collide perfectly in Arthas'…crotch…

Releasing the woman, he falters briefly, but does stay phased by the strike. Fortunately, he is unable to react before the agile woman recoils to her feet, spins a dagger in her hand, and throws it forward.

A thud slapping sound radiates from the now stationary handle. Weak vibrations ripple from the jerking figure, but the aim is true. Protruding from the left portion of the monster's chest, where he heart should be, is the short handle of a lodged weapon.

Sylvanas cackles as the giant raises his arm to grip the wound, "Fool, never underestimate the might of Sylvanas Windrunner!"

Her feet lock firmly and confidently. Victory pulsates from her rather presumptuous stance.

_You are not sure Arthas is dead! He cannot be!_

Arthas holds a weak posture. The other five, dancing fighters halt their attacks. their focus now on the two I spectate. Tirion holds back both holy fighters, but keeps his sight locked on his battle stricken master. Jon struggles against Mark, watching to see the outcome…to see if his master is the one to falter now. And, as the room grows silent, as the crowd stares motionless, as the world seems to freeze, one question rings loudly.

Is he…really…

"Ha, ha, ha!" Arthas chuckles, lurching forward. He rips the blade from his flesh and tosses it aside, "What you fail to realize, Sylvanas Windrunner…"

An armor clad arm shoots forward, wrapping its five blackened tendrils around the unsuspecting woman. Gripping rage envelops the fly caught in this spider's trap. Energy releases from the once zealous fighter. Dark aggression draws her unwillingly to her knees.

Once again the dark blade lifts, its tip directing death. Light reflects from the life absorbing weapon. Five, leathery fingers clutch the weak throat of the ensnared queen.

"My beating heart was torn asunder by Tirion himself!" His arm jolts rearward, "And like I did so masterly to myself, I shall carve the chilled, wasted muscle from your chest!"

Blue flame dances damningly. Fingers of one hand strangle life, while the others guide the piercing metal. She has no escape. She has no trick for flight. He has her pinned…

His voice bellows loudly for all, "This time, Banshee Queen, you will not escape my wrath!"

He makes to strike! But the sudden pluck of a tighten string beck to differ...

_TWANG, TWANG_

Sounds of strumming death ring from my side, "Like hell she will!" Nathanos fires wildly, "Get your hands of my Queen, you canned meat popsicle!"

Dark eyes shit our direction as the feeble missiles clink harmlessly from his heavy armor. Before Arthas can react, another voice calls from my other side.

"Lich King, your creations wish to thank you for your kind hospitality!" Darion lifts his duel blades, "Taste your own foul magic!"

A black, familiar skull crafts between the parallel blades. Green eyes lock upon the target ahead. Darion guides his weapons, aims his death coil, but he shall not do so alone! _You are a creation too! You need to blow his freaking head off!_

Light, metal, and wood lifts upwards. Dancing runes glow brighter than ever before. Gorgeous power tickles the tip of my righteous spade. Energy clings beautifully to the blade of my shovel. All of it focuses, all of it aligns. Illumination gathers upon the concaved surface, targeting death perfectly. Light. Hum. Flash.

As the dark sphere of the death coil ejects from Darion's swords, the light of my spade expels. Both swirl directly towards the dark master. Both whip past the bewildered fighters. Both glide for the King.

Reacting swiftly, the monster drags his body to the side. Barely does the dark ball of green and black magic barrel over Arthas and slam into the wall. He, however, has shifted directly in the path of my assault.

Without haste he lifts the now limp figure into the path. The monster is using Sylvanas as a fleshy shield! What have I done?! _You have to wait…_

Exploding majestically from the woman is a beautiful wall of light. It envelops the figure and dances angrily down the dark figure's arms. Thrashing tendrils of light slap mercilessly against the lifeless demon, burning and assaulting his person.

Agonizingly, he whips Sylvanas towards the wall, forcing her to painfully slam against the metal. She goes limp while the Lich King reels wildly. Wafts of burning illumination clings to his flesh. Wafting tendrils of smoky air drifts from her burning armor.

His once free hand now covers his face, attempting to block back the barrage. Frostmourne whips side to side, as he stumbles back to his throne. As the light dims he regains his stance.

Quickly, blue flames gather to edges of his blade. Black swirls lace the swirling magic, while gray streaks build upon the ever-growing fire. Looping flares draw out of the now cluttering mesh of dark magics. The dark, expanding sphere consumes his weapon, but his voice is not lost behind it.

"Light pales to the shrouding darkness!" His face is revealed, his own magic exposing a furious demeanor, "Taste the fury…of the APOCALYPSE!"

Exploding forth, the once roaming magic becomes a concentrated beam of dark horror. As it barrels past the five fighters, they are thrown helplessly to the walls. Nathanos and Darion shift to run, but I do not flinch.

Runes blare brightly as I draw the spade to my front. I draw the weapon vertically, letting the light stretch like a wall to the sides. A foot from me is a bright, illuminated section built of a thousand glorious souls. _You are mad!_

A sinister fading darkness dims my light as the unbelievable power barrels for me. Each passing second the wall darkens slightly, giving sight to the assaulting evil. With each passing second, it draws closer. Each passing second…the dark beam of the apocalypse

My eyes shut. As they do, a force I never thought imaginable collides into the holy barrier. My feet skid against the metal below. Grand forces drag my back to the spiny wall behind. Black claws thrash at the edges of the eyelid-piercing light. Sounds of a thousand souls scream within my very mind. Edges of reality blur as both forces struggle.

Ringing echoes cling to the pulsating call of the exploding magic. I feel myself slow, reality itself shattered. Light and dark flashes dance across my sealed lids. I feel myself stop. Darkness settles in, but I can still feel the light.

Seals of a zealous soldier break, letting the still glowing air fill my vision. Shifting forward, I can see the still clashing, but now calm, powers of life and death. To my sides, rest the groaning figures of the toppled Darion and Nathanos. Ahead of me is a cloud of swirling matter.

My shovel shifts horizontally. Runes glow bright. Your turn, Arthas. Light, hum, flash!

Exploding through the plume of smoke is a ball of perfect light. All heroes upon the platform become clear, but it is not them of which I am concerned. The spiraling sphere enlightens all villains. But only one is of my focus.

The partially hunched figure that is the Lich King holds steadily as the floating power of light closes in. Arthas stares upon the glowing orb, shifting his blade such as I. Arthas prepares for the unexpected retaliation. But he his arrogance has overwhelmed him…

_BRURSH_

Flames, constructed of holy energies, billow from the figure. Enveloping light engulfs the once mighty false god. Pure, magnificent powers pour into the air, forcing all shadows to the corners, fleeing from that which is righteous. From here I cannot make out his figure, but I know he is not defeated. _You are getting better!_

"ENOUGH!" Sinister darkness explodes and dims the once alluring glow, "Do you not know of whom you fight?!" Arthas lurches forward, blue and black flames pouring from every inch, "I am darkness! I am the Death God! I am…the Lich King!"

With each passing word his voice deepens, twists, and is mangled by some unseen force. His fiery demeanor bends. Dark energies gather at all edges of his person. The power expands, extending all the ways to the walls. Black flames lick the air, tendrils of damnation. Blue spines spiral, intertwining with the tenebrous clouds. They stretch the walls, directing their dark clutches to the fine iron. Upon the metallic surfaces blue flames dance and fade.

"Bow before your master! Bow before the fury of a thousand souls!"

I do not move.

"Face the wrath…of the Lich King!"

His arms extend outwards. Pillars of gathering iniquity lift to the ceiling and sidewalls of the partially spherical room. Rumbling tremors tear at my feet. Quaking muscles give sign of impending doom.

Arthas laughs diabolically, death clinging to every word, "This structure was crafted from metal born of the dead! Born from the ones Frostmourne feasted upon!" His armors lift to the side, "Kneel now, to the vast army of the True King!"

Metal screeches devastatingly. Cracking plates shift upon the vibrating air. The whole room begins to shift at its very foundation. Walls bend and creak horrifically. Light penetrates through the separating sheets. Chunks of massive metal crack and fall from the structure.

More and more trails of piercing glow are revealed as the entire wall breaks from the floor. Metal lifts with the dark magic, morphing and melting before my very eyes. The walls begin flattening and twisting, as if making rotate. Gaseous forms take shape as the wall melt from sight.

Within moments, the once massive, metal shelling becomes a swirling tornado of gaseous, mangled darkness. I twist back, letting the constantly building spiral fill my sights. Strange, short strips of black stack together, giving the funnel an appearance of something truly evil.

It is a wall...constructed of spirits…of souls…

Eyes fade in and out of the wall. Agonizing, elongated eclipses draw and vanish over every inch of unbelievable horror. Thousands of dull, distant screeches scratch at my mind. Every one of these twisting, swirling blocks of the wall has an identity, every one calls to me.

"You cannot flee, champion! Within this hollowed vortex, you are mine!" Dark bathed words cling to his demonic vocal cords.

Backing from the twisting, mangled mesh of lost spirits, I pivot upon my heels. I come to face the flame spewing, death-wielding monster of a man. Behind and above him floats a massive construct of wood and iron. Winged bone-dragons spit balls of frozen ballistics while mighty cannons chime fiery counter fire.

This vessel bares the red and black symbol of the horde. In the corner of my eye, the other flying fortress, one of yellow and blue, drifts in a clockwise fashion. Both rain fire upon the death fliers, crafted from death itself.

It is then, as I gawk foolishly upon the might symbols of this world's allegiances, I see a smoldering city, floating upon the wind. A black necropolis floats in the outskirts of the city, flashing of internal firefights and clashes.

As I stand here, a short distance from the dark core of pure iniquity, I come to a grand realization. Here, upon the ice throne itself, the world shall watch in splendor the final skirmish, the final confrontation…the final battle of the Lich King.

"Vile spirits!" Arthas throws his bulky arms to the wind, "May your unyielding suffering bind you to me! Arise! Crush the blind infidels before you! End the corruption that is the living!"

Wind parts and scatters. Spiraling tentacles of lost spirits break from the fallacy that is their solidity. Wisps of black air draw to the dark master. Their wrapping tendrils dance to the commanding individual. They play with his sinister being and cling to his lifted arm. Slowly, he points to me and chuckles.

"Kill him! Kill the false champion! Bring him the truth he so desires!"

In a flash, the tormented wisps shoot forward and collide with the ground. They rest for a moment, bubbling across the saronite floor. Slowly, horrifically, they begin to quake. To my dismay, figures emerge from the bursting collisions, giving shape to men long past. Swords brace their hazy, purple outlines. Black smoke rises from their human forms, giving a misshapen definition to their misdirected evil.

Dozens of figures form in front me. Quickly they form a barricade. A wall of souls bare form, raging ghosts of a time long past.

"Spooks? Worm, where are your friendly ghosts?" Nathanos lifts his bow, "We could use some of your sparkly goodness right about now." A strange sense of concern drenches his shaky words.

Arrows ripples forward, cracking the rift of dark matter. He is right, I need to amass that army of mine! But how? _You must draw from within. You must do it. _Only in Azshara did I manage to spew the holy army! And then I was nearly dead! How in the world can I do it now? Health well apparent. _You must make a sacrifice!_

_"Worm!" Nathanos steps backwards, even his barrage of arrows unable to tamper the assaulting wall of terror._

_How do I muster the strength needed to gather the light? You must sacrifice for the greater good! You must give part of yourself to stop the monster!_

But how? It is not possible...

"WORM!" Nathanos' arrow rains fury, but is fear lathers his voice. "Do something!"

My eyes divert forward. Walls of twisted souls march forward, their gluttony for life seeping from their very existence. Arrows shatter their forms, but with each fallen, another emerges from the spiraling horror around me. How can I stop this! How do I give to the light if I do not know! _You...He must give that which has followed him for ages._

"Hope!" The second voice that bears form rushes from the interlocked Tirion and Carlin. He almost seems to limp as he approaches me. "Only you can stop him!"

He lifts his sword, "You must think hard, gather strength from within." He whimpers as he falls to his knee, "As I am able to control you, you can force my hand! Embrace the light, Hope. Take into your mind a sword, and twist it. With it, bring my face to your thoughts."

What is he speaking of? What will this accomplish?

"Now, Champion!" He twists to the towering Lich King, "Let the thoughts fill your mind before it is too late!"

Without hesitating, I picture a long, elegant sword. It glistens beautifully. It is held in the hands of a man, the figure I was told to envision. But in my mind is bears no ghastly form, but a true, humanly glow. Pink flesh gleams brightly. A smile forms on his face. Near him, a small child stands. Long, brown hair clings to the boy's face. In one hand, the tiny infant holds the hand of the man, of the specter. Together, they seem so happy, so cheerful. As if in some other time, some other place. So joyful...

_He was never alone._

The man speaks, the second voice in my head rings loudly.

_He must focus. He must do as I told._

I don't understand...

_He must rotate the blade...point it to my chest...and do what must be done. He must let his instincts guide._

Focus, Hope. Let your thoughts wander. Slowly, carefully, the man turns the blade, pointing it vertically. Carefully, he lifts his arms, drawing the blade to horizontal level. Then, without any true thought, any true motivation, the man smiles.

_He will be missed."_

Then...with all the force possible...the man thrusts his blade...in my mind. No...

Terrifyingly, I open my eyes. Before me, in this terrible time, the figure holds his sword...the tip caressing his bosom. The tip Thrusting blade directed by his one-hand slivers his chest. Light pours from his great wound. Energy courses as he falls to his knees. A sharp, numbing pain grips my chest. What has he done? What have I done? _You know what he has done…_

"Hope…" Light breaks from his form, his body fading, "I love you like a son…" Pulsing, radiating energy crackles at my sides, "But I failed this world once…"

An elegant explosion ripples from the figure of my own being. A chilling, yet warming sensation attacks my body. I feel as if I am going to vomit! The world spins. My body shivers violently. What is going on? It feels as if my own soul is being sundered within my own body! It is then, with a terrible pinch and horrific surge of agony...the voice speaks...

"I will not fail again..."

Light drenches the dark ground around me. The part of me, the second voice that insulted and cursed my very name, fades…floating into the air. Pain clenches my chest, and I am unable to move.

"How touching." Arthas lifts his blade; pointing to the dissipating friend, "Join my ranks, lieutenant of Tirion! Feed my vast armies!"

He laughs.

"Glorious sacrifice shall not go unrewarded!"

A pulse of dark energy slams into the man. He twists and folds, floating back to the wall of horror. Black claws break from the spiraling wall. They grip his floating soul, dragging him into their fold.

No! No! You will let go of him! Do not take him! _You know he did was for you. _Stop him! My shovel lifts, flashes, and a spiraling ball of light ejects outwards. A mighty explosion slams into the twisting wall, but nothing happens.

Where is he going?! I will not let this happen! But the pain, I can feel the pain in my chest. _You must feed from it. You must know he gave what he had left to defeat his true enemy._

He cannot be gone! Even if he is a sassing jerk, he was mine! A bright haze glows from me. He was my friend! He was…me! Tears build at the corner of my body; mourning the loss of a hero, of a friend, of a deeper part of myself.

But as I stir within my own, pitted emotions…the world reacts…

Energy of holy proportions wafts from my body. Sparks swirl delicately in a pillar above my being. It is the same happening as upon the broken shores of Kalimdor…

I sacrificed myself for Nathanos, and he…sacrificed himself…for me. _You got the idea. _Energy feeds my veins. Holy might fills my once aching heart. Whipping tendrils thrash against Arthas' nightmarish creation.

He shall not have died in vain!

I spin, shifting my shovel outwards. The blade of the spade scratches the surface of the spinning wall, but does more than merely flake away bits of air. Flashing lights sparkle from the spiraling construct, slowly feeding into it.

"Arthas, your ignorance shall be your downfall!" A grand flash ripples from the circling runes, expelling a grand torrent of bright powers into the soul crafted barricade.

Stripes of white and yellow intermingle with the black and purple pillar. In moments, the once dark concoction of evil begins a battle of light and dark. Both sides lock above us, spilling into the sky. Tendrils of white whip from the spiraling wall, splashing and forming holy figures upon the metallic floor. Arthas has summoned these dark souls into this world. And I shall set them free...

"What is this?! What have you done?!" Arthas twists his body at the skirmishing forces of light and dark, "You cannot take from blade! Frostmourne feasted upon those souls, they are trapped within this blade!" He pivots in his spot,a strange sense of concern wafting from his words, "It is not possible! YOU CANNOT CHALLENGE THE MIGHT OF THE LICH KING."

Darion chuckles as he comes into focus, holy figures at his side, "Arthas, I figured you would have learned what happens when someone gives their life for someone they love."

He draws his duel swords to the ready.

"Kel'Thuzad took my soul in the same manner as you did that warriors'!" He rushes forward, heroes of vengeance at his side, "Now we return, thousands of hate filled souls, yearning for revenge!""

He dashes forward, clashing headlong into the wall of blackened souls, "This time, Arthas, your greed shall be your undoing!"

Darion and the wall of souls clash into the blockade of dark. Clouds of black and white explode, colliding together in combat. The freed souls that I unleashed battling those still trapped within the Lich King's nightmare. They battle, but it is not their skirmish that truly matters. It is the route that is cleared as they all of them are interlocked. It is the path...with Arthas directly ahead.

Voices cry from behind, but only one reaches my ears, "Go, Worm. Cut his head off! I have your back!"

Arrows pluck and whoosh into appearing souls. Nathanos sunders any that dare feed the broken path. This is it, Hope. Engage the Lich King. End him!

Without hesitation, my feet shuffle forward. Muscles fill with righteous rage. Arms shift to the ready. The dark figure ahead grows larger and larger. As I move, clashing figures of all sorts fill my sight.

Jon and Mark are locked in mortal combat, sweat and blood pouring from their faces. Tirion and Carlin fight for supremacy. Ships fire from overhead, a few wandering rounds slamming into the throne. Ahead…Arthas stands ready.

Fiery clouds explodes to his side as a lost shell cracks against the unholy platform. Smoke wafts over his sinister helm. Frostmourne secretes malicious fumes. My spade pours forth-holy light.

This is it!

_CLANG_

Runes realign as the might of Frostmourne bears down upon me. Blue, empty eyes lock with mine. Gritting teeth reveal an expression of utter damnation. Strands of delicate hair waft to the frozen, pale flesh of the lost figure.

We stand, locked together, Frostmourne hungering for my death. My spade, a solid staff of justice! His strength is unbelievable. His might…remarkable. _You must fight!_ I shall!

"Fool!" I can feel his words pour from his frosty lips, "I destroyed a kingdom!"

Frostmourne shifts forward, latching to my blade, "I ended an empire!"

My legs lift from the floor. Suddenly all grows weightless. Cold air holds me delicately, gliding me like a feather upon a gentle breeze. I am floating. Sadly, a jerking force pulls me back down.

_THUD_

Sparks rain at my sides as I come to a skidding stop near Tirion and Carlin. My head bounces painfully off the metal. A strange sense of confusion settles in my mind. All sense of focus fades, my attention diverting to all events possible. In the corner of my, Carlin seems to be unable to hold back the unholy enemy, but my attention is lost as cries echofrom below below. Spinning, I see a spiraling mass of black and white. Elongated eclipses twist in the air. Only feet from me, a sharp drop is visible. If only I can see...

_You need to focus!_

Heavy thuds grow louder as I look down below. Something is coming, but I don't care. Let it come. Let it...I must make sure everyone is alright...

As the world flinches, my head throbbing endlessly, I pull to the edge, glancing at those below. A silver figure holds himself tall, crashing against the vast undead armies. A small, feminine soldier fights against the wall of Scourge.

The footsteps become louder, but I stayed locked on Muradin and Jessica. Below, they fight, just as I fight now. Yes, the fight.

A clenching force grabs my chest, and once again I find myself lifting uncontrollably. Back to reality...

"My father died to my own hands! My people suffered and bled as I commanded!" He pulls me to his face, "What it takes to a be a king, whatever it takes to guide my true empire!"

Arthas glares at me momentarily before sending me flying again. Remarkable strength drags me over his shoulder and towards the throne. This time, sadly, the wind does not guide nor aid me. It simply sends me crashing and skidding into the steps of the stone. Pain radiates from my being. The entire world spins. Once again, I lose all focus. A deep, steady ring rattles my being. I look to the left, then the right. Carefully, then, I tilt my head forward. This time, however, I instantly return to that which is of most importance. Arthas marches feverishly towards me as Tirion slams the butt of his blade into the now limp Carlin. Just behind the Dark King, I see the Lost paladin rise and turn towards me, just as he master marches.

It would seem evil prevails...

My body feels weak, almost numb…_You must fight!_

Metal boots drag swiftly in my direction. Come on, Hope! Spinning, I brace my arms to the metal and slowly lift my chest upright. As I come to sitting position, a dark, malicious claw lunges downward, latching to my neck.

Pain surges through my body, bones crack against chilling leather. Air becomes bottlenecked in the blocked passages. With a violent jerk, I find myself floating. Again the Dark Master brings me to his eye level. My hands wrap around his bulky arm, but they do nothing to stop the beast.

My shovel slips around my armand falls from grasping range. I can feel his hatred, his malice, and his contempt. I can feel…death…

"Did you really think that you, a lackluster, dimwitted shell of a man were going to march into my palace…my very throne room and end what years of planning created?!"

The world quakes as he gives me a painful shake, "I, Arthas Menethil, defeated Kael'thas, crushed Illidan, and thwarted Ner'zhul. Like all those who dared bring onslaught to my name, you too shall be granted the same fate!"

Frostmourne twists, tip aiming for my vulnerable flesh.

"Join the ranks of the lost, champion! You too shall march the path of the fallen!"

Metal shifts, body aligns, dark intentions glide onwards. Rage focuses and aims. Arthas locks upon my body, his dark plan shifting towards reality. Frostmourne shall hunger no longer…

"Die, Hope Blackwood, die…"

Eyes of blue damnation hone onto mine. Mindless rage, utter hatred, blaring focus, all are familiar. As he drags his blade rearward, I cannot help but take in his expression. It reminds me…of Venomspite, and of myself.

He signifies all that evil within; he signifies all that is horrid. He brings to mind all that is naught all that is worthless. He brings to mind all wrongs I have done, and all the darkness I shall spread under his likeness.

Blade locks, elbow at full extension. I came here today to defeat the evil within, and the evil stirring…but I have…failed...

Suddenly the beast winces. Weapon tilts down while buckling knee signals random weakness. My body floats slightly inward, allowing me a closer position to the monster. He whips his head down and glares angrily at a protruding arrow. Nathanos…

"Goldfish!" Sylvanas! She rests near the edge, blood spots and sores exposed around a bosom propping a bow, "Show this damned bastard the light! Bring him your warmth!"

Yes! The giant, plated helm turns to me as I strike frontward. His eyes align with mine. My shovel dangles to the side, ready and willing. The entirety of my focus shifts forward. Every last drop of energy fuels my arm. But he shall feel no blade this strike. A torn, broken leather glove holds loosely to the weapons of this assault…

My fingers wrap around the unbelievably frosty flesh of the monster.

His eyes widen, blue flames diminishing with each second. A horrific, painful surge of needling ice travels down my arm. Life fades from the slowly numbing, blue skin that is mine. The once pale skin of the beast sparkles, letting traces of light feed through his neck and into his jaw.

Death consumes my limb, grasps my shoulder and penetrates my lungs. Air is blocked, the world blurring. Such overwhelming darkness. Such…horrors. _You must not let go!_ I shall not!

Frosty clouds spew from my mouth as I attempt to draw in air. Arthas' face glows brightly, while a slack jaw secretes light. Once blue, sinister eyes, now orbs of righteous holiness…

It is here, as the two connect for the final time, that I see in his eyes that of something more. It is here, as ice envelops my soul and heat fills his once vacant freezer, that I see a true man. It is here…I see Arthas, the true Arthas…. And I see my true self…

A hero.

Fingers unlatch with cracking splendor. A split second blurs as I slam into the ground, twitching and flailing as the malicious chill departs my slowly warming body. But as it fades, I cannot help but feel the weakness settle in.

Arthas, however, seems lost. He throws his hands to his face, letting his mighty Frostmourne clang uselessly on the metal floor. Howls of agony and despair waft from his throat and cling upon the sky.

"What have you done?!" He spins to his to his throne, stumbling backwards to the icy seat as he does, "This…this…sensation! What is this?!"

I turn my head, watching the man lift the dark helm from his face and placing it under his arm. From here I see white and yellow strands feeding to a pink and pale skinned symbol of confusion.

Sylvanas chuckles as she lays flat on her back, "That is the greatest feeling in the world, Arthas." Her eyes close, and a smile floods her face…an actual smile…"Revelation, Arthas, revelation!"

She laughs again. As Arthas whips his hand across his face, I notice movement amongst the spiraling pillar I so foolishly ignored. It is from that wall that I see a lone, wandering strand float from the black and white mesh. It dances across the sky before finally colliding with the floor. Suddenly, a bright flash bursts from ground. Light pours into the sky, followed by a growing, shapeless man. A figure slowly builds and shuffles forward. It is the image of a glowing, tall character of some distant past.

A heavy, yellow and white fur coat runs from the ground and to the shoulders of the man. Whitish hair clumps in strands, showing signs of balding and of age. Each long, white fiber runs to the top of the head where a circular, cracked crown rests.

He quickly shuffles to the throne, stopping short to stare down at a weapon lying on the floor.

"My son." The man booms a low, commanding voice of a once confident human, "The day you were born…the very forests of Lorderon whispered the name…"

It reaches down, gripping the blade.

"Arthas…"

He shuffles forward, blade lifted to his front.

"My child, I watched with pride as you grew into a weapon…" A mighty metal boot slams onto the first step of the throne, "…of righteousness."

Arthas flinches, eyes wide and bewildered. His once frozen optics glaze over. Lips quiver as he hunches forwards.

"Father…how is it possible? I killed you..."

The man ignores him, speaking as if rehearsed. "Remember, our line has always ruled with wisdom…and strength."

He stands above Arthas, "And I know, you will show restraint when exercising your great power…"

"I did what needed to be done! I could not hold back, father?" Arthas sweeps the platform, scanning all the figures before him. "I did it for my people!" Sadness and sorrow creeps in, consuming his face. "I did it for you!"

"The truest victory, my son…" He pauses briefly, letting the blade float down, pointing away from Arthas, "…is stirring the hearts of your people."

Swiftly the man grips Arthas, pulling the blade to the front as he does. Metal vibrates gently in the ghost's hands. The tip extends forward, clinging to the front of the Lich King's chest. A light glow hums from the blade as the two, father and son, look at each other.

Arthas flinches feebly, tears gathering at his eyes. He gazes, sorrow ridden, at the man before him, "Father, what do I do?"

The man continues, "I tell you this…" the specter shakes, ignoring his words, "…for when my days have come to an end, you shall be king."

"Father? What is this? What are you doing?"

Arms lock, muscles tense.

The men's eyes lock as a penetrating silence follows. It is there, upon the frozen throne, where an aged, ghost of a man holds his son. The same boy covered in a thick, unholy armor. The same boy that once stood proudly next to the man before him. The same boy, that was lost so long ago. It is there, upon the frozen throne, where a lost father...repays his son for all he has done.

It is then, upon a warm breeze, unlike any felt before, that the man breaks the silence. And it is with the next words, that the blade spirals forward, "Succeeding you, son."

Slicing flesh rings. Metal cracking against metal cries loudly. A blade built for one man crushes the very body of its destiny. Arms of a tyrant go limp. Gasps of air flee the dying vessel and its fractured lungs. Eyes of a father, long ago past, gaze into the fading soul of a long lost son.

"My son, this kingdom is at an end." The ghost releases his grip, letting the man fall. A large, metallic helm breaks free and clings off one step, "And with it, with this passing in time, this very day, this very moment…"

The helm bounces outwards, bouncing off of one step. Then another. Finally, it hits a third before skidding to a stop inches from me. Blue flames bellow from the helmet. A strong, overwhelming voice envelops the confine of my mind.

_Hope_

The dark voice calls to me as the man speaks, "The people of Lordaeron, your people, and the entirety of Azeroth triumphantly whisper the name…"

As the blade vibrates in Arthas' chest, he reaches outward, his hand directed towards me, yet not aiming at this weakened figure. He extends...for the helm...the very helm that speaks to me again...

_Hope Blackwood. _

Again the voice chimes, but is quickly lost as the ghostly figure turns to me, aging face locking upon my weakened form.

"It whispers the name…Hope."

In a flash, the figure vanishes. Bursting clouds of light shoot back into the spiraling pillar. The Lich king lies on his back, life escaping his form. It is there, his very blade protruding from his chest, like a metallic tombstone to a single source of a thousand souls, Arthas, the Lich King, has found peace. And Frostmourne's hunger is satiated.

It is there…where Arthas Menethil lays…dead…

_Hope Blackwood, heed the call of Ner'zhul!_

My eyes unwillingly divert downward. Blue fumes seep from all inches of the still glowing helm. It is what is calling to me.

_The fool has rid himself from this act, and it is your turn to bring might to the Lich King!_

It speaks to me…

_Take the mighty helm; brace it upon your brow!_

It commands me…

_Together, we shall force this world to its knees!_

I must do what it says. Hands extend forward, fingers stretch for my destiny…

_Come, Hope Blackwood, fate has drawn you upon hollowed winds. It has strung you through a sequence of horrors unimaginable. Bask in your grand reward! As one we shall behold the true power of the Lich King!_

The power…can be mine, I am weak, but together…

_Yes! Wise words of a man constructed for greatness! Bear the power! Take the name...of Lich King!_

My fingers vibrate upon the wind, shaking violently for that which rests only inches for me. It is so close. With it, I can regain my strength. I can...Suddenly, metal slams into metal. A large, gold plated boot appears in my vision, blocking my hands instantly. Uncontrollably I glance upward, starring at the man. This paladin, however, ignores my existence and simply gazes at the fuming construct.

He cackles oddly, "What a fool I was. To believe Arthas had shed all qualities of his humanity," Swiftly he bends over, grabs the helmet, and lifts it upwards, "Ner'zhul, true bearer of the frozen curse, I beseech you…"

Quickly he spins the metal casing, pointing the eyes away from his body. In a flash he draws the helmet of his head, letting it hover gently above his wafting, white hair.

"Let my destiny be at your side. Let my destiny be the one...to bear the curse! I beseech, you, orc!"

_You must stop him! The Lich King commands…_

Tirion's eyes dart to mine and he smirks, "Ner'zhul, if Arthas can banish you with ease, then I shall bury you into the farthest reaches of the nether!"

Before I can move, the shell of evil slips over the paladin's head. Blue light vanishes into the man, while plumes of holy light trickle from the slits crafted for eyes.

"You shall no longer bear hold over me or my people, orc!" Tirion shuffles across the platform, stepping over the fallen corpse of the lost Arthas, "For eternities I shall fight you. Millennia will wither upon time, but I shall not falter!"

Carefully, slowly, the man spins and slides backwards.

"Upon your glacier of damnation, upon your mighty pillar of iniquity, upon your very throne, I shall destroy you!" He glances to me, " Together, we shall be the Lich King! But alone, I will destroy the very power the name holds!"

A sudden, unexpected rumble echoes as the man skids into a hunched position. One fist grips the armrest of the icy chair, while the other grips tightly to a small, gray object. From here I can make out a small, silver weapon…a mace…

Vibrations rattle the entire structure. Spirits break wildly, spinning and rotating all above the metallic platform. Shocks of pain ripple across my flesh as I bounce uncontrollably.

"Hope!" A voice cries to me, but my eyes stay focused upon Tirion.

The man stares contently forward, thoughts riddling his mind. Five fingers grip the edges of the chair fiercely, while five others stay relaxed upon the symbol of divinity. A smirk forms beneath the diabolic cage, while spirits rise from behind his mighty throne.

"Worm, you ninny!" Fingers wrap around my arms, "This place is coming down! Gonna blow…! Whatever you want!"

Swiftly I lift to my feet, the paladin still in my sight. Resting there, I can see the man as he truly is. Resting there, I see him as the trickster he is, fooling us to the end. Resting there, I see a father, a son, and a hero. Resting there…I see Tirion Fordring, Lord of the Light.

Nathanos drags me rearward, but I cannot help but shout, "One day, Tirion, we shall meet again! We shall reminisce of better days! Of memories long past, of legendary tales!"

I quickly come to the end of the metal flooring, shaking as I do.

"And of dreams redeemed!"

I find myself tripping onto a large, wooden platform. A swift jerk clings to my legs and the object I currently stand upon shifts forward. But still, my eyes do not break from the man. From here, I can see him flinch, his dark armor glistening brightly from the moonlight. It is then, as the ship I am on takes to the air, that Tirion shouts loudly.

"Hope! I would much like that!" He bellows loudly as the flying vessel shifts from the floor and drifts outwards.

I spin around; letting the many faces of familiarity fill my sight. All the heroes stand here, all but the ones lost and buried beneath the layers of frozen mist. All the heroes stand here, say the one's lost to icy blade.

Swiftly, the giant vessel barrels from the icy platform, leaving behind the traces of two bodies, one living, one lost. Spiraling around them both is a towering mesh of souls, the many still dancing from the fight earlier. But now, it is different...

Thousands of souls break from thousands of skeletons, while many more spirits melt from the crumbling dark iron walls. They drag upwards, circling upon the breeze, orbiting to the final call of the fallen Arthas and to the sacrifice of the Tirion. Each one dances upon the air, giving thickness to the ever-darkening wall. Thousands of souls, thousands of lost people finally given resolution. And it is there...where they gather...

A barrier of white, black, and purple encompasses it all, the remaining ice pillar, the throne…the hero.

As we drift towards the mighty city of Dalaran, away from the swirling, spiraling, display of grandeur, a mighty flash belches from the core of the pillar and spreads outwards. I shield my eyes briefly as the burst reaches the ship.

Once the calm clears back in, I see a spike of solid ice rising into the sky. Souls trapped the darkness behind a barrier of their own, locking the evil from sight. They came to their final resting place, forming a thick layer of ice around the entire Frozen Throne. A spire of finally resting, gathered souls. A spire built of all the world's heroes, built for the grandest of the pack, Tirion…

I stand here, taking in what many shall be ignorant of. And as I stand here, lost in the moment and of the display of sacrifice, I feel warmth like no other. A gentle, tickling, just barely noticeable, heated breeze slaps the edges of my face and brings a smile to my face.

My mouth opens and whispers to Nathanos, "Warmth…the greatest pleasure you will find upon these shores."


	17. Chapter 17: Epilogue

It almost doesn't feel real…

"Victory! Victory at last!" An unknown soldier scurries across the hobble stone path.

It doesn't feel real…

"Celebrate mages of Dalaran, celebrate!" Rhonin stands tall upon the ruins of his citadel, a full pitcher of ale as his closest companion. "Celebrate all who came to bear witness the demise of the false king!"

It cannot be real…

"Ye'laddy's never let ye'Yorg down!" Muradin, Yorgadin, whatever, prances around, arms wrapped around a couple of his fellow dwarven allies. "Swoop'n and saving us like ye'did! Lads…" he wipes a tear from his eye, "Ye'make me proud."

But, despite all denial and internal disbelief…it is reality.

Arthas, the master of the frozen wastes, prophet to many, and false god to the rest; the Lich King…has been…defeated.

And from the denizens marching triumphantly across the partially ruined paths, you can definitely see it apparent. Yellow and blue glistening heroes sing, arms locked with red and black bearing warriors. Victory spews from all their lungs; victory encompasses all those willing, victory for everyone.

Here, all boundaries are blurred, past transgressions overlooked, hatred faded. Here, all lines converge upon the final fight, and the glorious ending. Here…there is only joyous splendor.

Men hold their women as closely as their mugs. Soldiers bear their wounds as deeply as their calls. Warriors conceal their weapons as carefully as their inner mourning. Everyone celebrates.

Tiny gnomes scamper across the rounds, throwing handfuls of colorful confetti haphazardly into the air. I cannot help but gaze at the pack of miniature partiers. Puffs of their spectacular paper cling to the air in bushels; except a lone, tiny, red strand drifts my direction.

Oddly, I latch to this paper with utter attention. It loops round and round, changing directions with the wind. Slowly, it floats past the front of my face and glides harmlessly upward.

With a spiraling loop, it drags around the edges of a large, wooden, red cross with a white background. The large sign diverts my focus briefly before the paper directs me back to it. Another twist and bend sends the fragment wafting past a tall figure.

Dirty blond hair clutches the sides of his rather depressing expression. Eyes glare bemused down at a pair of large, cupping hands. He holds these paws as if holding the world, yet bearing no weight.

A fine red glaze coats the long, partially curled fingers. From here I am certain that that said fluid would be nothing short of blood. This giant, Mark, glances downward, but he sees nothing before him.

His expression tells me it all. I would hope it would, I have worn that demeanor more than any one man. Yes, Mark stands, lost in his own mind. Mark stands silent, but weeps a thousand, invisible tears. He stands…

Suddenly, he twists and looks backwards, locking sight with the small room beneath the red cross. For a long, drawn second, he stares backwards, as if trying to climb into his own past. We both know what is left there will do nothing but haunt him.

A lone tear drags at his face before his lips suddenly move, mouth opening. His eyes continue to glance backwards, but his body is preparing to move on. Quivering lips drag upon the air for a short fleeting moment before he says loudly to himself…

"Forgive me…brother."

Swiftly, the usually soft-spoken man spins. He flinches gently before his sight catches my eyes. Tears gather like floodwaters to a weary dam. He stares into my soul, searching for answers that will not come. He stares, begging me correct the wrong.

"What do we do now, Hope?"

He speaks a raspy, rather confident voice, booming just for me. I, of course, would dare not waste this moment. Quickly, I tap my shovel and smirk.

"We bury him."

A strange expression of confusion grips his face, momentarily, before he smiles and coughs. With a shake of his head and sad step to his trot, he shifts down an alley, and fades behind the edges of a building.

I make to move to him, but a firm slap and a painful pinch snaps my shoulder.

"Worm!" I turn to Nathanos. "Why are you standing here? We need to get these blind twits to see that you are the true hero of this day!"

He turns me to him, "There is simply no way I will let the opportunity for my own statue to fade into nothingness!"

My left eyebrow shifts upwards, "Your statue?"

"Yes, Worm, mine!" He pauses and frowns, "Ah, yes, we will make one for you, too. I will place it behind mine. Half the size. Yeah, perfect."

Bony fingers wiggle in the air, crafting the statue out of imaginary marble. No, crafting the statue out of imaginary gold. Nathanos hates marble. And silver. Also iron…

"Worm!" His rather sharp, spiny fingertips pinch my cheek, "Jump out of that wild head of yours long enough to get to Rhonin!"

Hurriedly, he scurries forward, leaving me alone upon my vacant, T-Intersection. A strange tightening sensation creeps across my chest. An uncomfortable feeling nestles behind my sternum and clings to the bars of my bony cage.

I hesitate to let this rather awkward sensation fade, but it lingers rather harshly. My palm slaps to my armory chest. This armor has to be the problem. _You are way off._ No, it has to be.

I bend my arms and begin fidgeting with the straps on my back. After a few minutes of struggling, one clasp loosens. The other one is near the middle of my back. Ah, so hard to reach. Come on, you little bugger…

Ah ha!

Swiftly, I throw my plate forward, and promptly remove my shoulder pads. Both clank off of each other as I let the upper sheets bounce against the chest piece. Good riddance. Sorry, Tirion, but I am done wearing that heavy mess.

Sadly, the sensation still lurks maliciously. Fiercely my claws dig at the flesh beneath my loose fitting leather. This is maddening? What in the world is it? _You are feeling a rather unnerving sense of loss._

What? Oh…how could I have forgotten? Forcefully, I drag myself forward, letting the pulsing nerves fade into ignorance. _You will not be able to hide it forever_. I don't plan to. I just don't feel like being slapped by Nathanos again. You ever get bone-slapped before? Not fun. _You are right. You must hurry._

Swiftly, I dash down the path. Nathanos waits impatiently at the bottom of the remaining citadel's base, tapping his feet angrily. I skillfully dodge dancing celebrators and prancing partiers. The whole city has turned into a giant source of newfound glee. _You were expecting gloom and doom?_ No…not really.

After a few minutes of surging drunkards and shouting dancers, I finally make it to Nathanos. He shakes his head as I reach him and takes up the steps. His legs take two steps at a time, while my patient limbs pat one at a time.

It doesn't take us long to scale the flight. Once at the top, the large, now illuminated room, is filled with all the heroes and leaders available. Thrall and Jaina stand together as usual. Tok rests near Rhonin, while Chromie and Sylvanas group away from the large mass.

Finally, and most surprisingly, Wyrnn and Garrosh stand together, arms locked, chants coming from their voices. They sing in unison. They sing together like brothers. They sing together…like dying cats.

Wrynn sees me from the corner of his eyes, takes a swig of his drink, the points his glass to me, "Hope!" He cackles drunkenly, "The hero of the moment! Come here, you cras-sh-y hero, you!"

I hesitate, but Nathanos jabs my side, and I find myself rushing forward. In seconds, I come into the room, where all the gatherers cheer and kindly acknowledge my presence. One by one they greet me; however they please, painfully or gently.

Once they are finished their hospitalities, Rhonin approaches me and slaps my shoulder, "Boy, I must admit, I was rather doubting of your abilities, but…" he nods and smirks approvingly, "…results don't lie, Hope. You did it."

I smirk and humbly admit, "No, no. We all did it. All of us. Everyone that was able to witness his dying moments, and those at the bottom, battling to keep control. Every soldier fighting led to the death of the Lich King."

The room lifts their glasses, gives a mighty cheer, then commences mild banter. Thrall, however, gives me a grand bow that is promptly followed by a nod and smile. As I look at him, I cannot help but remember the last time I met him. That, of which, brings to me an array of random questions.

"Warchief… how did you guys escape?"

He hesitates briefly before chuckling, "Hope, it was a grand spectacle!" The orc pounds his chest heavily with a curled fist. "Scourge minions advanced. Only a handful of mighty Horde warriors remained…"

Thrall pauses briefly as he extends his arm upwards, acknowledging the entrance of some unseen figure.

"Muradin there, grand king of the Frostbourne, had his grand fighters glide upon the wings of safety, gathering all us right as the metallic pinnacle of damnation collapsed around us."

Garrosh cackles softly as the Warchief continues, "Riders gripped my bulky arms. Birds latched to the Troll shaman that stands before us, Tok. My soldiers leapt and bound upon the birds as they descended. A rescue of the ages!"

He shakes his body and grunts, "A thousand cries of triumph for the mighty dwarf and his courageous warriors!"

With that, he lifts a once unnoticed mug, throws it to his lips, and chugs heartily. I spin to see a wobbling, rather intoxicated Yorgadin clutching the frame of the door and waving his cup in the air. From here, I can almost taste the pungent fume of his drunken state.

The dwarf shifts and quakes as if to speak, but simply limps lazily upon the frame of the cracking structure. Nathanos grunts oddly, and I twist back to see him glaring angrily at the group around us.

He, however, is unable to speak as King Wrynn shouts loudly, "Nathanos Marris, just the man I was looking for!"

Marris lowers his eyebrows and frowns, "And why might that be, Wrynn?"

The king stumbles to him and chuckles, "Lad, I will be needing your as-sh-sistance." His eyes glance briefly to Thrall and Sylvanas before he continues, "Do to recent skirmishes, it has been brought to my attention that my troops lack proper archery training, and…

"No!" Nathanos shits violently, "Like hell I will do what you just dared vomit from your sickening lips!"

Thrall interjects, "Commander, it greatly advance relations amongst our feuding factions if you would train Wrynn's men in the art of the bow."

Nathanos jerks awkwardly and glares at the orc, "Was this one of your grand schemes, Warchief? It would depress me on scales unimaginable if I have to punch you, Thrall."

"No, Marris, it was not solely his decision." Sylvanas intervenes on Thrall's behalf, "We traded your talents for the legion of paladins. The Forsaken armies would benefit greatly from actual holy bearers."

Her lips curl in disgust, "Not the sick, twisted versions the blood elves have born."

Nathanos' mouth muscles curl downwards as an expression of shock sweeps his face. With mouth ajar, he spins around the room, searching for a figure that stands beside him. Oddly, he overlooks me completely on his way to Garrosh. _You know why he did that. _Yeah, I really don't know what's going on.

Garrosh shrugs and grunts, "Undead, do not come asking me for assistance. The human woman agreed to depart her magical wisdom upon the orcish horde. A deal has been struck, undead."

Marris frowns and glares at Wrynn, "It would seem, then, King, that I am in quite the dilemma here. Either I kill you for asking, or I spread my fantastic talent amongst your rather disappointing people."

He shrugs, "Given that killing you would only curve my boredom temporally, it would seem…" His eyes divert from the King's as he sighs.

"Is that a yes, Marris?" An inquisitive look sweeps Wrynn's face as his gaze presses on Nathanos.

After a kick of his leg and wave of his hand, Nathanos replies, "That would be a yes, King."

"Fantastic!" Wrynn points to Marris, "We shall depart to Stormwind immediately!"

Strangely Nathanos turns to me. His eyes lock fiercely. Did I do something? _You weren't even wandering!_

"Worm," he calls to me, "You might be bored in Stormwind. There are no scourge or bodies to bury. And given that your recent focus has gone and died, you might need to return to old habits, no?"

I make to speak, but I am at a lost for words. What in the world is he trying to get at? _You know exactly what he is implying. You do!_ Deep inside I do, but is that possible? Is he really trying to tell me…

"Worm," he now frowns, "Well? Lord of the Mental Cases, what do you say?"

Again I do not speak. This time, I scan my vision across the room, searching each person before me. Garrosh, Wrynn, Chromie, Tok, Sylvanas, Thrall, Jaina and then back to Nathanos, I search all of them. Each set of eyes told me the story needed, and the decision desired.

Then, the one I forgot, Rhonin, asks, "Hope, hero of the hour, where do you wish to go?"

As my eyes lock with his, a warmth of certainty caresses my body. I know exactly where I want to go…

"Rhonin, I want to Plague..." an overwhelming urge to sneeze engulfs me, "…eeh…" _SNEEZE, "_ …Land!" I shake my head before restating, "Err, the Plaguelands." I pause brief as I perfectly form the next words on my tongue, "I want to go home."

Before Rhonin can reply I hear the booming, eerie voice of Darion call, "Plaguelands, Hope?" I spin to look at the figure leaning on the frame opposite of Muradin, "I can get you there in no time."

"Through a deathgate, Darion?" Rhonin interjects from behind, "Seems rather risky for someone to dare use it as portal, I dare say."

Darion chuckles and shifts to his feet, "I am the leader of the Ebon Blade, wielder of remarkable powers above and beyond the standard death knight. I think I can handle it."

I throw a quick glance to Rhonin, who, frowning, nods, "He should be safe in your hands, Darion. Go home, Hope. You have earned some rest." He pauses briefly, "I will send the partiers to their respectable cities, and then, maybe, I will come find you, Hope"

He shrugs, "Just maybe."

With a smile, I spin and head for the door. The scuffling feet of Nathanos shift behind, as do a few others of whom I do not know. Darion turns and marches onward. Quickly, I exit the crushed citadel. To my sides, I catch glimpse of Carlin and Jessica standing together.

As I move they see me, and promptly follow out of curiosity. In seconds we descend the flight of stares and march forward. I am not exactly sure where he is going, but after he pushes through a large crowd, he navigates down a short, empty corridor and into a vacant room. Ah, space. _You got it._

Darion scans the area quickly before looking to me, "Sorry for the haste, but the number of people here drives even my skin to crawling. I am ready for the gloom of my floating citadel, once again."

Nathanos shifts to one my sides. Carlin and Jessica shift to my other. To my surprise I see Tok shuffle up besides Jessica. Suddenly something scurries between my legs. My eyes divert downward, but a high-pitched voice distracts me.

"Cutie!" Chromie looks up and squeals, "Looks like I am coming with you."

Confusion settles in, "What do you need from the Plaguelands?"

She throws her hands to her hips, "Cutie, you insult me!" She giggles, "If you must know, I have grown rather attached to those lands. And, if I recall, Andorhal is a heaven for vacancy."

A smirk sweeps her face, forcing one upon mine, "Whatever you say, Chormie. It is good enough for me."

"You are so cute!" She slaps my thigh and turns to Darion.

The Knight lifts his weapon and directs it forward. Dark energies swirl gently around curves of the blade, chanting to us an eerie tale. Clutching tendrils of black energies course to the tip of the blade before suddenly flashing.

After ten long seconds, a burst of black spreads forward, building a hazy darkened arch. A cascade of shadows promptly envelops the area beneath the bend, revealing a passageway of purplish, black power.

Darion makes a noise of shock, "Huh, the skull is gone. Odd."

I do not know what he is talking about at all. He, however, does not seem interested in whatever he was speaking about, and swiftly trots to the twisting frame. There he holds briefly before stepping towards it.

"On the other side, folks."

He marches through. The black wall molds to his form and regroups as he disappears through. I stare forward, filled with a rather confusing mess of disgust and displeasure. It does remind me of a portal, but…it is so creepy…

_You need to just jump through!_

Jessica churns with excitement and chirps as her body locks to a ready position, "It has been so long since I have see home! I don't expect much, but…its home!"

Without hesitation she sprints forward.

"Jessica, wait, you don't know…" Carlin calls to her, but is too late. In a blur she collides with the blackened drift and vanishes.

The old man pauses as he grasps his sword, "Light guide me, oh how I hate portals." No more hesitation grips him as he barrels forward, disappearing just as the two before.

Next, the troll marches forward, stopping near the gate. There he turns and glances to Chromie, "Come, dragon, might as well do it together, mon."

Chromie takes a step forward, but instantly stops and scratches her head, "Wait, I will just fly! Yeah, much safer!"

Tok frowns, "Mon, dis be safe. Trust me."

"You sure?" She shifts forward, "My eyes cannot read anything beyond…"

"Safe, gnome, mon. Safe."

As she nears him, he reaches down and scoops her into his arms. She squeals and slaps his chest fiercely.

"Troll, give me a warning before you do that!" Her eyes divert to the portal, "You are positive it is not going to destroy us?"

Tok shrugs and takes a step forward, "Nope, mon. I have no idea."

"You said!…"

They are gone.

And just like that, it is back to Nathanos and myself. The two of us, like usual, but soon to be of the unusual. It has been some time since I haven't seen the fool daily, or at least weekly.

A heavy hand slaps my back, and pricks of bony pain tingle down my back, "Worm, it is time. And don't worry, I will be thinking of you every time I look into the eyes of a pigeon, or a wandering street dog."

I smile, "That is sweet Nathanos. And I you when I am pitted against the circular mouth of a giant grub, or the faced with high-pitched screech of a monstrous bat."

Pricks of pain ripple down back as his fingers pinch my flesh. The pressure releases as he lets go. I make to smack the back of the undead figure's head, but the echoing calls of footsteps draws my attention.

I make to look, but a tall figure appears in the left corner of my vision. Shock spreads across my face, and fades fast as I see Mark, clutching a large, rune-bladed sword in his hands. Mark stands beside me, holding the blade of his brother within his massive paws.

"Mark, how did you get that here?" I turn to look at him.

He simply shrugs, smiles to me, and darts forward. I am not able to say a thing as he vanishes into the swirling abyss. Wow. I didn't see that coming. _You did, you know it._ Ok, maybe just a little. He was bound to show up, Dalaran is not a place for him…

"Hope!" The sweet voice of Jaina calls to me, "Wait, I almost forgot!"

Heavy footsteps ring. Jaina rushes to me as I turn, holding in her arms a strange, blue package. Jutting from the sides of the wrapped paper are four limbs. From the back protrudes a hastily wrapped spike. A large, block like structure sticks from a tiny bulge. It almost likes like a doll with a giant head. That and…is it…

"Jaina," Nathanos sticks his arm forward, a lone finger leading, "Is it alive?"

A tiny screech radiates from the package. The woman flinches, throwing the toy…thing to me. I grab edges of paper.

"We found this wandering in the underbelly." Jaina speaks to me as I pull the paper from the rather wormy package, "We thought of you when we found it, so…it's a gift!"

Emerging from the blue paper is a large, yellow and orange-stripped head. Two tiny horns jut from the top of the creature's head. Four little limbs kick the air as it wiggles. A tiny tail wags, as large, adorable, glowing eyes look at me.

"You wrapped a raptor hatchling in paper?" He reaches over and pokes the small creature, "Is it supposed to be steak, or something?"

Jaina squeals and slaps the back of Nathanos' hand, "Do not eat the cute thing! It is Hope's pet!"

Nathanos laughs, "Yes, big head, consuming all other aspects. Fits him perfectly." He pauses, "Just as my dogs did me…"

Suddenly, a low, rumbling bark barrels from the end of the corridor, and to my surprise, a small, furry animal appears in sight. As it turns, a high-pitched goblin calls to us.

"Bony!" A familiar voice calls to us, "You forgot something!" He motions to the dog," Go get'em!"

Wriggler swiftly darts down the hall, bounding for Nathanos. The undead figure opens his arms, pulling them back in to hug the dog. He whispers sweet nothings to the beast before standing upright and grunting.

"Skippy, how in the world?"

Yeah! How? He should be dead. We saw his ship ram into the side of Naxxramas. It doesn't seem possible?

Skippy chuckles and shrugs, "Sea Turtles. Giant, flying sea turtles, strapped to my feet, mate."

At that he pivots on his heels, rotates, and moves out of sight. What in the world is that supposed to mean?! I glance to Jaina, and she shakes her.

"Don't look at me. He came trotting to our portal below, demanding entrance a few minutes after Naxxramas crashed. Other than that, you got me."

Slowly, bewilderingly I turn to Nathanos. Almost in unison the undead man looks to me. For a minute we gawk, a bemused expression grasping both our faces. Finally, after what feels like a good minute, Nathanos speaks.

"Worm, it is best you go." He looks forward, "Before anything else strange, and all mage-like occurs."

I simply nod and spin. Before me, a slowly fading portal remains. Dark claws call to me. Twisting magic lures me forward. Powerful cascades whisper for me to depart this land.

So, half-heartedly march forward, coming to the gate in seconds. However, as I reach it, I turn to Nathanos. He nods to me and points at the gate.

"Go, Worm! Get out of my sight!"

Yeah, sounds about right. My eyes switch back to the portal, and I lift the wriggling creature into the air. Its large eyes lock with mine again, and its mouth opens. A high-pitched adorable screech booms from its tiny lungs before it…

Ouch!

Latching to my arm, the little beast bites me fiercely. Forcefully, I jerk it from my arm, and prepare to yell at it, but those eyes, it is so cute! I just want to squeeze your little body!

I smile at the thing and quietly emit, "I dub thee, Squealz, Lord of Chomp."

_You did not…_

My eyes gaze into the darkness, and promptly I stick one leg forward, and then the other.

"Congratulations, Squealz," darkness consumes my limb, "You are about to discover the Eastern Plaguelands. I hope it hasn't changed much..."


	18. Chapter 18: Author's Notes

This here, as noted, is a small section for my notes on this story.

Honestly, besides the ending, this story was never meant to exist. I was planning on making Hope's journey in Northrend span over two complete works, each one developing the voices within his head, as well as developing the terribly neglected Jon.

But I started the first part when they announced patch 3.2….and what saw I them do with Anud'arak almost made me cry – which was the villain of the first of the two Northrend stories.

It was then I could no longer stay in Northrend. Personally, Blizzard's Northrend, in the game, is terrible. I will not go any further into that, or I may start throwing stuff around the room.

Though it may seem a bit overdramatic, the Scourge and Lich King are why I started to write. My favorite zones in the game are the Plaguelands, and regardless of what they did to the Lich King in Northrend, they will still be. It pains me to see lore be squandered when Northrend could be so much more…

Oh well, I am not a developer, soooo….

In the end, despite wanting everyone to love this story, I did it for myself. I needed my own closure to one of my favorite super-villians, Ner'zhul, and the villain Arthas. I want to make sure my ending came before Blizzard's, or I may have stopped writing…completely…

But don't worry, Hope and Nathanos are not finished.

I figured, given Blizzard's knack for dramatic announcements, I only felt it suiting to continue with their recent, unleashed topic...

**_The world rocks on its foundations, seas bubbling, earth cracking, winds whipping, and fires churning. The signs of change roll across the lands, breaking Azeroth to the will of one being. It is the Dawn of the Last God…it is…the Cataclysm…_**


End file.
